#anyway. it is free food free alcohol and free seeing my friends. so ill probably go

[hartenlust]

just got invited to a housewarming in JUNE. which is literally 1.5 months away but to me it feels like such a far future. yeah sure I'm not doing anything then yet. I'm sure by then we'll have flying cars so I can come no sweat

[cienie-isengardu]

Not only do I not regret asking you to "RELEASE THE RAMBLES!", I'm sending you requests for more. Below is a list of questions that I asked @bihansthot , and enjoyed their answers, but because you are so thorough, and answer in such depth, I'm re-asking them to you.

Brace yourself, it's a list. I didnt have time to sort thru them, I just copied and pasted, so if any are questions you already answered before, please feel free to include the links.

"LET US BEGIN!"

---------------------------------------------

In the spirit of potential future writing,  I'm trying to find a building that  would make a good substitution for Lin Kuei temple.

I've tried looking up ancient Chinese military barracks/forts, and have found some stuff,  but is all exterior.  Anyone know of any locations (or several I can cobble together) that would make good inspiration fodder?

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So, uhm, religion? What's the Lin Kuei's take on that one? I know they are aware of Gods, they team up with/ encounter Raiden all the time,  and have literally worked for/against Shinook, so I know they recognize higher powers... but I  guess the question is,  do they care?

Do they have a religion,  or spiritual practice that resembles religion? Or do they have a more practical approach "gods exist,  but we just consider them very strong people"?

Which segues into... do they recognize and participate in holidays, or things like birthdays? Or are all their celebrations work related (I.E. successful missions or levels of combat mastery)?

---------------------------------------------

Food.  What foods do they normally eat? What foods do they like?  What foods don't they like? What foods do they absolutely love so much they'll stop what they're doing to get it?

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If you had to match the Lin Kuei with a dynasty,  what one would it be? (I know the 2021 movie has the opening in the Ming dynasty, so the Lin Kuei is at least that old,  but given that movie Bi Han hasn't aged in 400 years, and was taken is a child,  its probably much older) (and also know the game probably cherry picked random Chinese things it liked).

What do you think the Lin Kuei's view on artistic culture (probably not the right word) is? I know they are heavily militaristic,  but in the game,  Kuai Liang offers Hanzo tea and he properly prepares it the Japanese way, that says they have something of an education other than just related to fighting?

Lastly,  in the movie,  everything Bi Han does is "for the Lin Kuei", but the Lin Kuei is on Earth (assumedly),  and he is working for a guy who wants to enslave Earth, so what do you think the deal is?

---------------------------------------------

Question about the Cryomancers. I know the game lore says that they are supposed to be rare, but I also know that the Lin Kuei have had at least 5 (grandpa, papa, older, and younger Sub Zero,  and Frost). 4 of which are part of 3 generations that inherited it even with mixed blood (I'm assuming Mama Sub Zero wasn't Cryomancer since they left her alone).

That's a lot of generations in a row for a rare trait... So do you think the Cryomancers as a group have figured out they're being hunted and have chosen to live in hiding?

---------------------------------------------

Lin Kuei society question? I like writing so I also like world building and I think about these things.

Is Lin Kuei society ever covered? I know there is a Grandmaster, a handful master assassins (Sub Zero's, Sektor, Cyrax, etc) and the  movies always have a bunch canon fodder lesser assassins.

And they live in the very isolated Lin Kuei Palace/Temple in Arktika (or wherever it used to be)

But is Lin Kuei (we'll call it "village") ever covered?   Do they have willing servants, kidnapped slaves, or a mix of both? Are there women (non fighter women,  I know there's Frost) or do they employ strictly male help? If there are women, what's their role, and are there children born there? What about Elderly? What about resources,  is everything (from food, clothes, weapons, and the raw materials to create them) grown or manufactured on sight by skilled laborers or do they import/interact with the outside world? How vicious or civil is this society, could you be killed for looking at Sektor wrong or do they value your services to a degree? What's the degree? This is obviously a combat culture,  but is everyone expected to know martial arts of some variety, is it optional, or do they prohibit it among the servants/slaves? How strict are they on things like clothing, food, alcohol,  drugs, "luxuries", or pleasures? Money? If they interact with the world do they recognize and use $$ currency, commodity currency, or a mixture? Internally are the Lin Kuei payed or just provided for? What about illness or injury,  if you're not a master and it a serious injury/illness are you taken care of or do they just give you a quick death?

Etc. That's all the questions I can think of,  but please feel free to answer questions I didn't ask,  if you think of anything else.

Thank you for this wonderful list to talk about! I’m gonna split the answer into smaller parts, for better focusing on each aspect but also so I don’t feel bad for keeping you waiting for ages, lol. For now let’s focus on asks about the religion!

So good questions! I do think they have some spiritual practice(s) because in martial arts the state of a mind is as important as the physical body and religion is one of many ways to shape someone’s mindset from a young age. I do, however, think that Lin Kuei does not worship the gods. They are aware that the gods exist (with Raiden as the thorn in the side) and may even respect their supernatural powers and battle skills but it never has stopped Lin Kuei from desecrating holy places, murdering people and stealing stuff for the best price. So, it seems to me that whatever religion the members of the clan follow, by nature it is rooted in nontheism.

Of course, there is also a chance that Lin Kuei worships some forgotten deity or deities (as a remnant of their ancient connections with Outworld / realms conquered and destroyed by Shao Kahn?) or may even practice ancestor worship which seems like a good way to uphold a widely understood tradition that plays an important role in the discussed community.

The closest thing to religious practice was seen in Mortal Kombat X, when Sub-Zero and his warriors seemed to pray together before statue of god / deity / ancestor / legendary warrior / personalized thing they value the most (sadly, my knowledge about Asian religious practices or faiths is very limited so I don’t have idea if the statue is supposed to represent any real god/religious symbol).

At the same time, it could be just a bluff since Grandmaster was aware of Cage’s team infiltrating the Lin Kuei territory and used this moment to lure them into a trap. Additionally, Mortal Kombat X comics presented once Kuai Liang sitting before the same statue albeit in a completely different (devoid of reverence?) position.

Of course, if we take into account Mortal Kombat Armageddon, the game states that Lin Kuei Temple placed in Arctika was actually once the Temple of Delia (the great sorceress & wife of god Argus) that at some point get abandoned and re-used by Sub-Zero’s clan.

(In the background, we can see a statue of Delia that Lin Kuei does not worship but did not remove for whatever reason. Mixing both old and new games, we can only wonder if MKX!statue is also the remnant of someone else's faith/religion?)

Beside that, Kuai Liang was pretty vocal about Lin Kuei not worshipping the Elder Gods, what was seen in MK11’s intro dialogue with Cetrion

Sub-Zero: The Lin Kuei do not worship the Elder Gods.

Cetrion: We seek gratitude, not worship.

Sub-Zero: I see no distinction.

and personally did not have any reason to pray to the goddess:

Sub-Zero: Why should I pray to you?

Cetrion: Why does a bird flap its wings?

Sub-Zero: I asked a simple question.

In all fairness, in MK11 Kuai Liang seems the most passive-aggressive toward the Elder God while Frost is focused on her ambitions and Noob!Bi-Han just wants to be left alone when bothered by Cetrion. Similar thing happens toward Raiden. Despite gratitude for saving him, Kuai Liang does not spare the god criticism (can’t serve both Elder Gods and Earthrealm, isn’t fit for his role of protector) and in MKX outright says he does not fear divine beings:

Raiden: Sub-Zero...

Sub-Zero: I fear no gods, Raiden.

Raiden': That's why you shall lose.

Surprisingly, Kuai Liang’s interaction with MK11!Fujin sounds less accusing than with Raiden and Cetrion and it is connected closely to their ties with Bi-Han. And maybe Kuai Liang did seek in the past Fujin and other elements to make a peace with them, like he planned to do so in Mortal Kombat 4 Limited comics?

"I came here to make peace with the gods of the elements that you fought [...]"

Anyway, the accusingly behaviour toward Raiden and Cetrion could be just Kuai Liang’s personal dislike for gods and serious authority issues, which makes sense considering how much he suffered because of their meddling and conflicts.

But honestly?

The available examples of Lin Kuei attitude toward gods, demigods and supernatural beings suggest how little the warriors - especially cryomancers - care for them.

Like, we have Bi-Han in Mythologies, who asked Quan Chi about details of mission:

Sub-Zero: If it's so precious, why don't you get it yourself?

Quan Chi: I cannot enter the temple until the four elements within its walls have been defeated. And I am not on the best of terms with the gods of your realm... especially your god of thunder.

Sub-Zero: Tell me about these elements.

Quan Chi outright said he and earthrealm gods weren’t friends and Bi-Han, reading between the lines, could get the idea that he may end on bad terms with Thunder God. Yet he was interested only in elements (lesser gods than protector of realm?) guarding the temple.

Then Bi-Han beat down four demigods and met a displeased Raiden after Quan Chi got the Shinnok Amulet. His reaction? No fear, like meeting an angry god was a normal occurrence.

Rayden: Do you realize what you've done??

Sub-Zero: I was just earning my living.

Rayden: Your clan's ignorance and greed will cost this entire realm. You must now set things straight.

Sub-Zero: Quan Chi could simply be a lunatic sorcerer. I've never heard of an elder god named Shinnok or of a place called the Netherrealm.

Rayden: Well, you'd better start believing in both, because you're going to the Netherrealm and you're going to bring the amulet back. We must act quickly. I have no dominion in the Netherrealm... You are reality's only hope.

Sub-Zero: I'll do it, Thunder God... but only because I have no choice.

And once he came back from Netherrealm, where he was fixing what he messed up in the first place on Raiden’s order, his abrasive attitude did not change much:

Sub-Zero: Here... the amulet.

Rayden: Impressive, Sub-Zero. Perhaps you will reconcile your reckless past after all.

Sub-Zero: That's it? Not even a thank you?

Of course, to some degree Raiden’s words did have an impact on Bi-Han but even the god’s warning about his soul tainted with evil did not stop him from coming back to Lin Kuei. Bi-Han’s attitude and/or approach to gods seems to change somehow once he was reborn as Noob, but that is a different matter for different times.

Anyway, Mythologies!Bi-Han and MK11!Noob act less aggressive toward gods than Kuai Liang. But then we have Sub-Zero from from the MK novel by Jeff Rovin, who not only is not afraid of gods but outright insult them:

“Wait! Be warned, Shang Tsung. He is cursed!”

“Cursed? By whom?”

Ruthay wailed, “By the immortal Yu.”

Shang Tsung felt cold spiders crawl up his spine. “The demigod Yu?”

“Yes… he who is said to dwell in the underground caverns of Horse Ear Mountain… which is sacred to the goddess Kuan Lin. He who protects the canals… and the tunnels… and looks after all who use them, human and animal.”

“What did our brash friend do to Yu?”

“He… killed a man,” said Ruthay.

“What man?”

“A toll-taker… one who had given up a life of crime… one who had been a partner of the man… you… seek.”

“And how did that crime come to the attention of the spirit of Yu?” Shang Tsung asked.

“The man was killed… slowly disemboweled with a sword… while accomplices forced his wife and his son to look on! After his murder… the man’s remains… were dumped into a canal!”

Shang Tsung raised an eyebrow. “Is that all? I was expecting something truly terrible!”

“It was!” Ruthay shrieked. “When he disposed of the body… in that way … he profaned one of the sacred waterways… of Yu!”

Shang Tsung smiled now. “Then he is definitely the man I want,” he said. “Anyone who is impudent enough to insult a demigod won’t be afraid to attack a member of the White Lotus Society, or the gods who watch after them. I will send Hamachi, Ruthay. When he nears his goal, see through his eyes and guide him!”

Book!Sub-Zero was impudent enough to insult a demigod which is why he was one of Shang Tsung’s favorites. And to be clear - book!Sub-Zero did not regret insulting the demigod at all. Even more! He found humor in it!:

He dwelt in a cave two hundred feet up the face of a cliff by the sea. The mouth of his home was barely wide enough to accommodate a slender adult, and was accessible only by climbing the sheer wall of rock, a feat that was impossible for most adults and daunting even to the few arachnids and marsupials that tried it.

Maybe some of them were even sent by Yu, he thought with a smirk, little assassins who would chastise me for having spilled blood in his precious canal.

The less abrasive attitude toward gods was shown by Cyrax, who talked a bit with Raiden over Bi-Han’s remains. He wasn’t outright antagonistic but wasn’t overall respectful either. He talked with Thunder God like he would talk with any other human being that wasn’t actually Scorpion. Frankly, from the named Lin Kuei only MK9!Smoke actually addressed Raiden in respectful manner, with proper bow and the name of lord

albeit did he do so because he respects the divine beings or just out of gratitude for saving him, hard to tell for sure.

So yeah, it seems like no matter what kind of timeline or age or medium of the story, Lin Kuei does not fear gods nor pray to them. And the clan has a long history of dealing with Raiden, so the Lin Kuei had first-hand experiences with supernatural beings. Somehow, cryomancers are the most impudent warriors when it comes to dealing with or criticizing the gods.

Interestingly, as much as Lin Kuei warriors don’t care for gods, most of the known to us named characters believe to have - and to care - for their own souls. Sektor and MK11!Frost embraced the Cyber Lin Kuei idea but Kuai Liang, Cyrax and Smoke were opposed to C.I. project out for concern for their souls among other things. Even Bi-Han, to some degree became concerned about his soul after trip to Netherrealm.

Believing in souls is usually a sign of belief in the afterlife, albeit after all of them went through (the change into cyborgs, death and change into Revenants) this is less a matter of faith (religion) and more first-hand experiences. And let's not forget that regularly dealing over the centuries with Shang Tsung who steals people's souls on a daily basis makes it really hard to not believe spirits are real.

Also, an interesting matter of Lin Kuei practices that could have a religious/spiritual ground and/or be an example of ancestor worship is the clan’s funeral rites. I don’t think we actually saw any Lin Kuei to bury their own (especially after warrior’s failure?) and for sure MK9!Cyrax and Sektor did not bother to take care of Bi-Han’s remains. However the sources provide examples of Lin Kuei keeping corpses, most likely of their own leaders or warriors.

And so, we could see human remains:

put in two coffins on each side of statue

hidden / kept in a block of ice(?) in chamber of Fallen Lin Kuei in which Frost’s frozen body was also laid, but on the altar

Cyrax’s cyber body was kept and guarded by Sub-Zero (and this is like the only thing that Kuai Liang and Cyber Sektor so far agreed on)

and even Cyber Sektor’s remains, even if just for pragmatic reasons, are kept in what seems to be respectful manner:

It could be just Kuai Liang’s good nature to honor fallen of his clan (I’m still not sure if Lin Kuei Palace is the new place for Sub-Zero’s clan or the ancient hideout) but even in MK Conquest TV series, after Grandmaster was killed by then-currently-Sub-Zero, there was the farewell ceremony with clothes on display (cause there was not much left of body after freezing and shattering) while new leader gave the speech promising to punish the guilty.

Which makes me think that Lin Kuei did honor their fallen warriors (especially those exceptional, deserving). Such custom and apparently common belief in soul could also support the ancestor worship - both as some ancient, mythical ancestor(s) connecting warriors into one clan (family) and tradition to follow in the footsteps of forefathers (Bi-Han taking place of his father [old timeline] or grandfather [current timeline] or Kuai Liang taking Bi-Han’s place as Sub-Zero).

My general conclusion about Lin Kuei is that its members believe in souls, have respect and use of spiritual matters (meditation?) and maybe ancestor worship. Whatever the religious / spiritual practices they have over the centuries, it is not something they will share, as the Lin Kuei by nature are secretive people who keep personal things mostly for themselves. The people that joined the clan (Cyrax and Smoke) maybe kept their old, eventual religious beliefs but overall, Lin Kuei warriors did not fear, care for nor pray to gods. They may respect god (Raiden, Fujin) as a person but not because of their divine nature. And even that would not stop them from criticizing said god. Which is pretty much how Kuai Liang and Raiden’s relationship looks like. Grandmaster is grateful to Thunder God for saving him but he won’t blindly follow his authority.

(Kuai Liang has serious authority issues, hasn't he?)

As for holidays, I can’t really see Lin Kuei to follow any specific religious (theistic) special day cause they don’t care much for gods in the first place. Unless they worked undercover and needed to act as normal human beings, religious holidays would mean nothing to them. The warriors may however celebrate their mission success, combat mastery or promotion between themselves or in secret, I think. Like, Lin Kuei did forbid friendship because it was considered warrior’s flaw yet we know some members either were blood-related (Kuai Liang, Bi-Han, previous Sub-Zero - father or grandfather, depending on which timeline is correct) or considered each other a family (Kuai Liang and Tomas Vrbada) and most named characters worked in duos so they have both opportunity and knowledge about each other to celebrate important matters. If they managed to remember anything from previous life, that is. Because from ancient to at least Great Kung Lao’s times most(?) adepts were kidnapped from biological families at a really young age (something around 6 years old). And Mythologies: Sub-Zero takes that even further:

Its warriors are chosen at birth to be raised apart from the workings of day to day civilization and are stripped of their former lives. Only the clan knows their existence. Each of them posses certain skills and abilities that set them apart from normal men. These abilities are passed on from generation to generation and honed throughout the experiences of life.

So, celebrating birthdays doesn’t sound like happening much, unless those with family around could allow themselves such luxury. The clan may however celebrate the day of becoming a fully trained and sworn warrior? Or the fallen warriors? Who knows.

Also, something worth thinking about: in Mortal Kombat Conquest TV series, when the Grandmaster presented newly appointed Sub-Zero to the rest of the clan, he “celebrated” the cryomancer's first official performance as the execution of two men who failed their mission. So, yeah, celebration of something special in (old) Lin Kuei does not necessarily mean anything nice.

(The next part of answer most likely will be focused either on food or architecture / origin of Lin Kuei. Let's hope I will get it written sooner than later)

<><> EDIT <><>

RELIGION <> ORIGINS / ARCHITECTURE <> FOOD <> FOR THE LIN KUEI <> ART <> CRYOMANCERS <> LIN KUEI SOCIETY <> MONEY & MATERIAL GOODS

[the-wlw-cafe]

It’s Not That Easy (a Lena Luthor x Reader Fanfic

Request: 50 ( “we’d make such a cute couple”) and 46 (“can I kiss you right now?”) with Lena and Reader who have been dancing around their feelings since the beginning of time. Their friends keep telling them to go for it, but for some reason they always hold back. Falling in love is so dangerous in so many ways, but also so SO very good. 

Fandom: Supergirl

Warnings: /

Wordcount: 1343

There’s always been something there. An elephant in the room both you and Lena try your best to never acknowledge. There’s been gazes held for just a few moments to long, the frenzied staccato of your heartbeat whenever your eyes meet and so, so many excuses fabricated just to keep touching each other. But you don’t acknowledge it. You can never acknowledge it, because that would turn it from a safe daydream into something real, something with consequences, and you’re not sure you’re ready to deal with that. You don’t want to add to Lena’s troubles, to be just one more thing to worry obsessively about – because Lena cares, she cares so much, all the time, it’s one of the things you love the most about her. So you’ve created this elaborate dance, both of you toeing the line of what you both know is there and must never be spoken about.

All of your friends know, too. You’ve always been an open book to them, and Lena isn’t as icy and unknowable as she’d like to be once you get to know her better. And your friends also refused to listen to reason.

“I don’t get it”, Nia says between two sips of her wine. It’s Lena’s turn to host game night, and you’re all openly capitalizing on having one friend who is rich enough to afford alcohol that is expensive enough to be described as “luxurious” by sommeliers. Lena herself just left to order a second round of food after Kara arrived ten minutes early, which spelled disaster for the snacks she had already prepared, and your friends had seized the opportunity to pounce on you and heckle you for your ill-fated crush.

“Nia, I’ve told you before –“

“I know you have, but it doesn’t make more sense if you just repeat it often enough. You like her. She likes you. I don’t see why you can’t just go for it!”

You take a large gulp of your drink. “It’s not that easy”, you begin, only to have the rest of the group butt in and sing-song along with you. It’s a point you’ve brought up far, far too often.

“I think you’d be happy together”, Kara throws in. You don’t answer. In a world where Cadmus and doesn’t exist and where the name Luthor doesn’t carry a stigma with it, where you’d just be two more strangers among billions, Kara might be right. You can imagine yourself being happy with Lena. If you’re completely honest, you do it more often than you should. Giving yourself false hope probably wasn’t wise, but still, whenever you let your thoughts go you find them straying towards Lena again and again.

In the end, Lena ends up saving you from having to come up with a reply, returning with the happy news that food will be arriving shortly, before sitting down next to you. You try not to make the way you’re savouring her perfume too noticeable, but by the way you can feel the others’ eyes on you you know you haven’t succeeded. Still, as much as they like to give you grief for your ill-fated infatuation, they’d never make fun of you in front of Lena.

The rest of game night passes in a haze, with Lena and you absolutely dominating trivial pursuit, with you making up for what Lena lacks in pop culture knowledge, and Lena having an encyclopaedic knowledge of just about anything else. Alex and Kara however beat you into the ground during activity. You’re not too fussed about it, really, because watching Lena frantically trying to pantomime the word “garden gnome” is its own reward. The night slowly comes to an end when Nia falls asleep on Brainy’s shoulder, who in turn doesn’t want to move an inch in fear of disturbing her. You take some incriminating photos of the adorable pair, but one after the other your friends gather their stuff and say goodbye, until there’s only you and Lena left. You’ve effortlessly fallen into this routine, where you two are always the last to close up shop, clearing the table and doing the dishes. In the beginning, there was always a pretence of oh-you-don’t-have-tos and don’t-worry-I-can-handle-its, but you’ve come to just wordlessly accept each other’s help. Because honestly, you’re grateful for every single second you have with Lena, even if that second is spent elbow deep in the sofa crease, trying to clear out the last peanuts.

“I really hope Nia has a chance to put down the can before she falls asleep next time”, Lena says, procuring the last nut from the crevice.

“At least she didn’t spill her drink like that time at James’ place.” You supress a yawn. It’s almost 2 a.m. and you are starting to feel it. You lean back on the couch, closing your eyes for just a moment.

“But I can’t blame her, not long and I’d have suffered the same fate.”

Lena stands still, just for a second, as if mulling something over in her head, before she turns towards you, one eyebrow raised. “You would have fallen asleep on my shoulders?”

It’s an innocent question, really, but your throat still feels dry somehow. The sentence feels like more than its casual nature betrays. It feels like an invitation. The thought makes your stomach flip with anxiety.

“I-I doubt I’d look as cute as Nia”, you settle on. There, that’s easy. Neutral. Risk-free. You take a deep breath, proud of yourself for extracting yourself from this dangerous situation, but Lena doesn’t let you off the hook quite yet.

“I disagree”, she purrs, her smile widening. She’s having entirely too much fun. “We’d make such a cute couple.”

Immediately, all the oxygen seems to leave your lungs, leaving you breathless. She’s joking, right? She must be. You never acknowledge that…something…between you, that’s how it’s always been. As you frantically search for the words to say, you can see her bravado start to slip, her grin lose intensity, worry creasing her brow.

“But it’s not-“

“-that easy? That’s what you keep telling the others.” She takes a couple of steps towards you, until she’s standing right in front of you, then she drops to her knees in front of you. The sight alone makes your tongue dart out and wet your lip subconsciously. To your mortification, this detail doesn’t escape Lena.

“Or is it just what you tell yourself?”

“You were eavesdropping?”, you croak.

“I’m sorry, darling, I was. But it made me realize how long we’ve been tiptoeing around this, around us, and how flimsy our excuses for it are. I agree with Kara, you know. I think we could be very happy.”

“You make me very happy.”

The words escape your mouth before you can stop them, and when you hear Lena’s incredulous, relieved, joyful laughter, you don’t want to. It’s the truth, anyway.

“Then isn’t that all that matters?” She’s rising to her feet now, still moving closer, just inches away from downright sitting on your lap. Your eyes flicker down to her lips, you can’t help it.

“Can I kiss you right now?”, she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. Words don’t come, but words don’t even matter, as you pull Lena down into your lap as your answer, sealing your lips together in an explosive kiss that speaks of all the months you could have been doing this, could have held her in your arms, could have kissed her until you’d both be breathless and panting. When your hands find their way beneath the waistband of her shirt, just resting there, she gently breaks the kiss.

“It’s late”, she murmurs, mischief in her voice. “It would be very irresponsible of me to send you on your way in the middle of the night.”

“I guess I have no choice but to stay”, you reply, managing to keep a straight face for a second before your composure breaks. It doesn’t matter anyway, because a mere heartbeat later, Lena kisses the grin off your face.

[silverlightqueen]

Tia and Tamera... and Nicole

fratboy and best friend!namjoon x reader, university!au, comedy, fluff, angst (and making out, if that counts as something idk lol) ft. twice nayeon, got7 jackson & skz hyunjin

For btswriterscollective’s 1 year anniversary contest!

Summary: y/n decides to make a big fashion change and, all of a sudden, is the object of attraction of every male within a hundred metre radius of her. Namjoon, her best friend, isn’t too impressed about it.

Rating: 15 (mature themes, explicit discussion of sex, strong language)

Word Count: 9.9k+

Warnings: lots of sexism/misogyny, the typical she-has-a-makeover-and-suddenly-every-boy-wants-to-date-her-trope, lots of gross frat boys, strong language, explicit discussion of sex, alcohol and drug consumption, making out, Namjoon is trash and doesn’t know how to text. I think that’s it but lmk if you noticed that I missed something!

a/n: hey guys ! it’s silverlightqueen back with another university au lmao i’m sorry :( thank you to the loml @silverlightprincess​ for proofreading, you’re the best and I love youuu !! I hope you guys enjoy this bc it was really fun to write !!

silverlightqueen masterlist

I got the divider off google (it has no relevance to the story but it kinda matches the colour scheme so we move lmao) so credit to whoever made it lol

joon: u up

y/n: don’t fuckboy text me

joon: so thats a yes

y/n: what do you want ?

joon: u free tmrw

y/n: it’s Monday tomorrow

joon: what about it

y/n: I got a lecture in the morning, but I’m free after 11

joon: ill pick u up nd take u 4 food

y/n: look at you, any excuse to drop in that you can drive now

joon: do u want food yes or no

y/n: what food ?

joon: mexican indian chinese whateva u want

y/n: yeah, sounds good

joon: rnt u gonna tell me what food u want

y/n: I’ll sleep on it

y/n: anyway go to bed, idiot, why are you even awake at 2.30 on a Sunday night ?

joon: y r u

y/n: questioning my existence

y/n: duh

y/n: now tell me why you are

joon: i just left jens lol

y/n: nvm forget I asked

joon: sure u dont want the deets

y/n: positive

y/n: goodnight you demon

joon: gn angel

‘Took you long enough,’ Namjoon exclaims as I open the front door of his car and climb into the passenger seat. ‘Wait, whoa. Hold on. What is this?’ Namjoon demands as I shut the door behind me, and I quickly turn to look at him. ‘What?’ I ask worriedly, and he shakes his hand in my general direction. ‘This. Your outfit. I’m confused,’ he says, and I relax, rolling my eyes, trying to ignore the way my cheeks are heating up and hoping he doesn’t notice it. ‘Why are you confused, Namjoon?’ I ask as though I’m speaking to a child, and he laughs, starting up the car.

‘I’m confused because I’ve never seen you wear anything other than clothes that are way too big for you,’ he says, and I make an indignant noise as he speeds down the road like the devil driver he is. ‘Don’t even deny it, you know it’s true. I started to wonder if you had something you were trying to hide. A growth on your stomach. A hunchback. A pregnancy. Or worse; no boobs!’ he says, gasping dramatically, and I hit his shoulder, holding back a laugh. ‘I wasn’t hiding anything,’ I say, and he glances over at me, eyeing my chest, before his tongue darts out to wet his lip. ‘You were. I always assumed you had small tits – a B cup, max – but obviously not. I can’t believe you hid them so well. They’ve gotta be at least a D,’ he says, and I roll my eyes, not bothering to disclose that I’m actually an E. He’d probably pop a boner. ‘And your legs,’ he says, and I look down at them self-consciously. ‘What about them?’ I ask, and he blinks before looking down at my freshly shaved limbs. ‘I’ve never seen them before. They’re nice. Smooth. And curved, with some fat on them. I’m glad you don’t have stick legs,’ he jokes, and I sigh. ‘Stop body-shaming,’ I say, and he lets out a little chuckle. ‘Am I not allowed to have preferences?’ he smirks, eyes on the road as he overtakes cars left, right and centre. ‘No,’ I reply, and he bursts out laughing.

‘So what’s with the new look? What prompted this reinvention? Because, I’m either still tripping from last night, or you’re actually wearing makeup too,’ he says, and I shift embarrassedly in the seat. ‘I just felt like it was time for a change. I wanted to experiment, try something new,’ I say, and he nods, face blank. ‘Okay. Now, do you wanna tell me the real reason?’ he asks, and I laugh, annoyed that he knows me so well. ‘I was getting changed in my room-’ ‘Okay, hang on, let me picture it,’ Namjoon says, and I hit him again, ignoring his chuckles. ‘So, I was getting changed, and Nayeon barged in and had a meltdown over… my body. She said that she was really annoyed with me for hiding my body so much, because if she had my body, she’d walk around naked. Or whatever. Something like that. I’d never really… looked at my body like that, but once she said it, I realised that maybe I could start branching out, fashion-wise. So she took me shopping, and this is the trial of new outfit number one,’ I say, and he listens intently, nodding in all the right places.

‘So how have people reacted today?’ he asks, and I get a little embarrassed thinking about it. ‘Some of the girls in my class started screaming when they saw me, and Taehyung asked if I was new here, and if he could get my number. Oh, and our lecturer asked me to stay behind to ask if I was okay, because I didn’t seem to be myself today,’ I explain, and Namjoon bursts out laughing. ‘You’re kidding.’ ‘Not at all.’ ‘Wow. All I’ll say is to ignore Taehyung. I think all that weed has caused permanent damage to his brain,’ he says, and I can’t help but agree, wondering how that boy can even breathe right anymore. ‘Well, anyway. Why did you used to cover up so much?’ he asks, and I laugh. ‘Are you just gonna keep quizzing me?’ I ask, and he nods instantly, grinning. ‘I’m intrigued, y/n. You have to understand that this is a lot for me to process. My best friend has transformed into someone else since I last saw her. My mind’s going into meltdown mode,’ he says dramatically, and I roll my eyes at him. ‘Drama queen.’ ‘I learn from the best. You. Now, anyway. Can you answer my question?’

‘I don’t know.’ ‘You don’t know if you can answer my question?’ ‘No, moron, I don’t know why I used to cover up so much,’ I say exasperatedly, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘I find that slightly hard to believe.’ ‘Fine. I wasn’t the most confident in my body. It’s hard, seeing all these super slim tiktok girls, petite and slight, and seeing them dress the way I wanted to. It’s like… I felt stupid wearing the same clothes they wear because they look so different to me. The way the media glorifies slim women… it’s hard for not-so-slim women like me. So I just hid my body in loose clothes for so long that it was what I was comfortable in,’ I explain, Namjoon still listening attentively. That’s one of the best things about him; he may be an idiot, but he always listens to what I have to say.

‘That’s… kinda sad, actually. Because – don’t get me wrong, your old look did suit you – but this new look? It’s great. You look really good, y/n, regardless of the fact that you’re not a super slim tiktok girl,’ he says matter-of-factly, and I smile shyly. ‘Thanks. So it’s a yes to the black and white check mini skirt and blazer set?’ I ask, and he nods instantly with a grin. ‘I can’t wait to see the rest of your outfits,’ he says, turning into the car park at the shopping centre. ‘There’s… quite a few to come. I’m a bit nervous about a couple of them,’ I say as he pulls into a parking space, and he gives me a greasy smirk. ‘I’m even more excited now,’ he says, and I swat at him, the boy chuckling as he ducks away from my hand. ‘I’ve just driven you to buy you food, and this is what I get in return?’ ‘Yes. You’re lucky I’m not beating the shit out of you.’ He sighs, checking his blond hair in the mirror before climbing out of the car, and I reach into the back and grab my bag before getting out too.

‘Oh, my God,’ he says, sounding shocked, and I instantly panic. ‘What?’ ‘What are those?’ he shouts, throwing his hands down to point at my feet, and everyone within a hundred metre radius turns to look at us. ‘Joon!’ I exclaim, embarrassed at him grabbing so much attention. ‘Sorry. But seriously? What are those?’ he asks, and I look down at my shoes. ‘They’re sock boots. What’s wrong with them?’ I ask, and he stares at them before taking a step back and looking me up and down. ‘Nothing. They look great. I’m just shocked to see you in shoes other than trainers. And is that a handbag I see instead of the usual backpacks?’ he teases, and I roll my eyes. We walk towards the entrance, and I struggle to keep up with him (I always struggle when walking next to him, but even more so in these boots). ‘Wait,’ I say, hooking my arm through his so I can slow him down, and he laughs. ‘Aww, struggling in your boots?’ he teases, and I huff. ‘Shut up,’ I pout, and he laughs again, looking at me with an affectionate gaze and an amused smile.

But the affection and amusement soon disappears. ‘y/n. You’re literally killing me here. Hurry up,’ he says impatiently. ‘Sorry, Joon. It’s my first time wearing heels though, cut me some slack. At least I haven’t fallen over,’ I say brightly, trying to put a positive spin on it, and he scowls. He’s been trying his best to walk slow but he’s now struggling not to walk at his normal pace – his legs are so much longer than mine. ‘Yet,’ he says venomously, and I gasp. ‘Was that a threat?’ I demand, feigning indignance, and he side-eyes me. ‘Maybe it was. I could stick my foot out right now and no one would ever know,’ he says in a wistful tone, and I shoot him a dirty look. ‘I’ll step on your foot if you try it. Then who’ll be laughing when my boots ruin your Balenciagas?’ ‘Me, because you’ll be buying me new ones.’ ‘With what money? I ain’t got money like that.’ ‘Oh, but you got money for clothes?’ ‘I always got money for clothes.’ ‘Get a sugar daddy.’ ‘You are my sugar daddy.’ ‘Huh?’ ‘Who takes me out for food at least twice a week? And buys me things out of the blue?’ ‘Damn. I really am your sugar daddy. This isn’t a good deal for me at all. You’re getting the daddy, but I’m not getting any sugar.’ ‘I’m not sure that that means exactly what you intended it to mean.’ ‘You know what I meant. I want my sugar, bitch.’ ‘Jen can give you sugar instead.’ ‘Okay, but Jen isn’t getting the daddy. You are.’ ‘She was getting the daddy last night.’ ‘Did you really just refer to my dick as ‘the daddy’?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Never do that again.’

‘Where are we eating?’ I ask, and he grins. ‘Wang and Nayeon are waiting for us at Red Velvet,’ he says, and I gasp. ‘Yes! It’s been so long since we’ve been to Red Velvet!’ I exclaim, and he laughs amusedly. ‘I know. I was worried you might start getting withdrawal symptoms.’ ‘I thought we’d never go back. Does Seulgi still work there?’ I ask, raising an eyebrow, and he pulls a face. ‘Yep,’ he says, and I feel my eyes widen. ‘And we’re still gonna go?’ ‘Yes, because I’m a great person and make sacrifices for you even though all you do is abuse me and threaten to ruin my Balenciagas,’ he says, and I pout. ‘Sorry, Joonie,’ I say, putting on a baby voice as I give him puppy dog eyes, and he refuses to look at me, fighting a smile off his face. ‘Apology accepted. Now stop being the real-life version of that emoji.’ ‘Which one?’ ‘Don’t play dumb, you know exactly which one I mean.’

We round the corner to where Red Velvet is, tucked away from the rest of the shopping centre, and Nayeon and Jackson are sat in the window booth, watching a video on Nayeon’s phone together. When Namjoon and I enter, the little bell above the door rings, and both of them look up at us. Nayeon grins so wide I’m worried her face is going to split, and Jackson does a double take, eyes wider than an anime girl’s. ‘y/n?’ he exclaims, loud enough to catch the attention of everyone in the restaurant, and I shoot him a look, shushing him. ‘Oh, my God. What’s happened to you? Who’s this sexy thing?’ Jackson says as I slide into the booth opposite him and Nayeon, shuddering at the thought of my bare legs on the worn (and most likely, germ-carrying) leather of the seat as Namjoon slides in beside me. ‘Don’t refer to me as a ‘thing’, I’m not an object,’ I mutter, but my comment is ignored when Namjoon says, ‘literally my exact reaction.’ ‘No, it wasn’t. You did not call me sexy,’ I frown, and he blinks at me, looking surprised. ‘Did I not?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘Well, I thought you would’ve gathered that I thought that anyway. Based on the way I had to pick my tongue up from the floor when I saw you,’ he says, Jackson and Nayeon laughing as I roll my eyes.

‘You look good. Really good, y/n. I didn’t know you had boobs,’ Jackson says, inspecting me, and I try not to squirm under his scrutinising gaze. ‘Neither did I! Until I walked in on her naked!’ Nayeon says, Jackson’s eyes nearly falling out of his head. ‘I was in my underwear,’ I say defensively, and Nayeon rolls her eyes. ‘Details. But, yeah, after I saw her hot bod, I told her to stop wearing Billie Eilish’s hand-me-downs.’ ‘And gave her your hand-me-downs instead?’ ‘Excuse me, these are brand new,’ I point out, and Nayeon nods. ‘Yeah. You should know me better. I could never pull off an outfit like that.’ ‘I could pull it off you,’ Jackson jokes, Namjoon fist-bumping him as they laugh, Nayeon and I exchanging an exasperated glance. ‘I could pull it off you too, y/n,’ Jackson says with a little quirk of his eyebrow, and I roll my eyes, willing myself not to blush. ‘Jackson! y/n’s our baby, and we’ve gotta protect her from fuckboys, so stop being one,’ Nayeon says with a slap to his shoulder. ‘There won’t be any… fuckboys,’ I say, and all three of them raise their eyebrows at me. ‘You’re delusional if you think that. Just wait ‘til a frat boy sees you,’ Jackson says, and I frown. ‘Okay. That sounds fake, but, okay,’ I say, just as Seulgi appears to take our order.

‘Hi, and welcome to Red Velvet. What can I get for you?’ she says in the most bored tone I’ve ever heard. She must really hate her job. Even more with this moron sat beside me in here. ‘Can I get the Ice Cream Cake freakshake please?’ Nayeon asks, Seulgi gracing her with a rare smile as she writes down her order. ‘Can I get the Power Up brownie with Red Flavour ice cream please? And just water?’ Jackson asks, also getting a smile. ‘Can I get the Cookie Jar freakshake? And she’ll have Mojito cheesecake with Blue Lemonade. Thanks,’ Namjoon says, ordering for me too, but, unsurprisingly, he doesn’t get a smile. ‘Will you all be paying together?’ ‘I’m paying for mine and his,’ Nayeon says, pointing at herself and Jackson (she lost a bet with him a couple weeks ago, and owes him a meal). ‘And I’m paying for mine and hers,’ Namjoon says, Seulgi fixing him with a dirty look. ‘So this is who you’ve moved on to now?’ she demands, Nayeon and Jackson wincing. ‘Sis, you can have him,’ I say, unable to resist, and Namjoon shoots me evils as Seulgi looks bewildered. ‘Pardon?’ ‘I’m good, luv. Enjoy,’ I say, but she’s still staring at me, her mouth suddenly falling open. ‘y/n?’ she asks, and I nod, slightly confused. ‘OMG, I didn’t even recognise you. Girl, you look so good! I didn’t know you had boobs!’ she exclaims, and I have to stop myself from facepalming. ‘Thanks, Seulgi,’ I force out between gritted teeth, embarrassed as hell, but she doesn’t seem to notice, grinning away obliviously. ‘No problem. I’ll just get your orders put through and then I’ll come back for payments,’ she says, visibly perkier (nothing like seeing one of your friends unrecognisable after a makeover to cure a bad mood – apparently), before disappearing.

‘That was awkward,’ Namjoon says nonchalantly, all three of us fixing him with hard stares. ‘It wouldn’t have been so awkward if you weren’t such a dick,’ I say blithely, and he gasps dramatically. ‘Excuse me?’ ‘Don’t play innocent, dumbass. If you hadn’t had slept with Joy and Seulgi on the same day, we wouldn’t be in this situation. We’d actually have avoided a lot of situations if you weren’t such a dog,’ Nayeon says, brutally honest as ever. ‘Hey, I never made any kind of commitment to either of them!’ Namjoon defends himself, both Nayeon and I shaking our heads at him. ‘It’s common courtesy, douchebag,’ I reply, Namjoon sticking his tongue out at me. ‘I’d like to know what situations you’re referring to. I don’t get us into awkward situations,’ he says, all three of us giving him a ‘really?’ look.

‘Remember when we went out to that bar – what was it called again? Oh, yeah, Playing With Fire – and Jisoo threw that drink at you for blocking her on socials after you slept together?’ Jackson reminds us, Namjoon nodding slightly embarrassedly. ‘Oh, and when we went to Breakthrough, that club, and Sana got us kicked out by pretending we smuggled drugs in because you ghosted her after telling her you felt ‘something real’ for her?’ Nayeon brings up, all of us looking pointedly at Namjoon who nods sheepishly. ‘And that fight you got into with Daniel after you went ‘round telling people that Jihyo’s your sloppy seconds?’ I say, and he gasps indignantly. ‘I didn’t say that once!’ ‘Still. If you hadn’t had slept with her, that fake rumour wouldn’t have gone around,’ I say, and he pouts. ‘We could name several girls you’ve gotten us into awkward situations with. Chaeyoung, Hyejin, Wendy, Dahyun-’ ‘Okay, okay, damn. I get the picture,’ he says, the three of us exchanging looks.

‘Anyway, I need to go toilet. Come with me, y/n?’ Nayeon asks, and I nod. Namjoon sighs, reluctantly getting out of the booth to let me out. ‘Whoa, hold on,’ Jackson says, and I turn around to face him. ‘y/n… what you doing out here with all this ass?’ he asks, voice far too loud for my liking, and the few people in the restaurant turn to look at us disapprovingly. ‘Double cheeked up on a Thursday afternoon!’ Namjoon exclaims, before they chorus, ‘Hella ass!’ They burst into laughter, and my face is on fire, everybody in the restaurant staring at us (or, more specifically, my ass). ‘y/n, you dumb thicc, sis,’ Jackson says, and I take a deep breath before saying, ‘I’m going to go to the toilet now.’ ‘Take some ass pics while you’re there!’

joon: hey sexc

y/n: hey, what’s up ?

joon: wang wants 2 know if u nd nayeon r up 4 wing wednesday @ KPN

y/n: what time ?

joon: weneva imma get there 6.30

y/n: are there gonna be any other girls there?

joon: idk prolly the boys gfs

joon: y u asking so many qs u dnt have 2 come if u dnt wanna

y/n: I just don’t wanna be one of the only girls at a frat house with loads of stupid frat boys

joon: ill protect u bby

joon: me nd wang got u

y/n: much appreciated

y/n: we’ll come, but I’ll text you when we get there and you need to meet us at the door

y/n: I’ll feel awkward just walking in

joon: ok but call dnt text

y/n: you never answer your phone

joon: ill take it off silent 4 u angel ;)

y/n: thank youuu

joon: ofc see u tmrw

y/n: see youuu, goodnight joonie

joon: gn stupid

‘Wrong number,’ he says when he answers the phone, and I roll my eyes. ‘We’re at the door, come get us,’ I say, and he lets out a loud sigh. ‘I’m gonna lose my seat,’ he complains, and I huff. ‘Joon, please come get us. Do you know what it’s like being a girl around dozens of frat boys? You need to look after us,’ I plead, and he sighs again. ‘Give me a minute,’ he replies before the line clicks off. ‘Is he coming?’ Nayeon asks, and I nod. ‘Good, because it’s freezing,’ she says, clutching at her bare arms. ‘That’s what you get for wearing a t-shirt,’ I say, and she rolls her eyes. ‘It’s not like you’re dressed warmly either,’ she says pointedly, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘I’m not complaining about the cold.’ ‘Yeah, which I’m surprised about, because that top is thin as hell.’ ‘It’s not that thin.’ ‘Sis, I borrowed that top yesterday – it’s thin.’

I’m dressed in a black long-sleeve top tucked into a pair of greyish-whiteish joggers, with white trainers on my feet, a simple gold necklace around my neck with an initial pendant, a couple gold bracelets on my wrist and gold rings on my fingers. Nayeon’s in a pair of blue mom jeans and a black t-shirt, a cross body bag with both of our things inside it on her shoulder. Neither of us have bothered with full faces or pretty hairstyles – we’ve both got on basic makeup with our hair out and natural. It isn’t really that cold; it’s 8, and the air is starting to get crisp and cool, but the sun’s only just beginning to set, so there’s still a little warmth. Nayeon’s just a drama queen.

The door opens after a few seconds, Namjoon glowering at us, before he looks me up and down, his frown being replaced with a smirk. ‘Have I told you I love this new y/n? Like… this is a look,’ he says, and I grin at him, feeling a little more confident now. ‘I’m stood right here,’ Nayeon says with a half-hearted scowl, and Namjoon grins, grabbing her hand and pulling her into a side hug. ‘Nayeon, me complimenting you is like complimenting Mona Lisa. She already knew she was sexy as hell so what’s the point?’ he says easily, Nayeon preening as I roll my eyes. ‘You think Mona Lisa’s sexy?’ ‘Not as sexy as you.’ ‘Can we go inside? I’m cold,’ Nayeon says, not waiting for either of us to reply before she slips past Namjoon into the house. ‘Come on,’ Namjoon says, grabbing my hand and pulling me along behind him.

The second we step into the living room, the smell of strong cologne, alcohol and weed hits me and all eyes flit from Nayeon – who’s hugging Jinyoung and squealing – to me and Joon. Well, more me than Joon. ‘Woah. Who’s this? Surely not y/n,’ I hear Hoseok say, and I shoot him a dirty look, the boy grinning in return. ‘Shut it, stupid,’ I say, Namjoon continuing to walk towards the kitchen, dragging me along behind him. When we step into the kitchen, the smell of spicy wings hits me, and my eyes are instantly drawn to the takeout bags covering the countertop. But when I realise none of the bags are unopened, meaning frat boys have already been at them, it puts me off a little – I’d rather not eat food that might have been tampered with.

‘Look. My seat’s taken,’ Namjoon says pointedly, motioning to where Kai sits on a stool, beside Taemin and Seokwoo, the three of them laughing at whatever story Jaehyun’s telling them. ‘You’ll survive. What’s the point of having such long legs if you don’t stand on them?’ ‘There’s no logic in that. Go get my seat back,’ he says, and I side-eye him, wondering if he’s being serious or not. ‘How am I supposed to get your seat back?’ ‘Go flirt with him.’ ‘No! Him and Krystal have got a thing,’ I say, and Namjoon rolls his eyes. ‘That won’t stop him from flirting back,’ he says, and I glare at him. ‘I cannot stress this enough. Men are trash,’ I say before turning away from him, heading towards where there’s a couple dozen drink bottles and cups covering the countertop. I carefully pour myself a lemonade, making sure the cup’s clean and the bottle hasn’t been tampered with (I know Wing Wednesday is ‘for the boys’ so it’s unlikely it’s spiked, but it never hurts to take precautions).

‘y/n!’ I hear Mina exclaim, and I turn to see her stood there, smiling widely. ‘Mina!’ I squeal, pulling the girl into a hug. Mina’s one of Nayeon’s friends (they’re on the same course) but because Nayeon and I are inseparable, Nayeon’s friends are my friends too. Mina’s here because she’s dating Bambam, a KPN frat boy, and it makes me realise my privilege; Nayeon and I are only here because of our connections. If we weren’t best friends with Jackson and Namjoon, we’d have missed out on so many amazing memories. ‘How have you been? I haven’t seen you for ages!’ she says as we break apart, and I grin widely. ‘I’ve been good. Really good.’ ‘You look it. This style is, like, amazing! Is this new style permanent?’ she asks, and I smile shyly. ‘I think so. I actually… really like my new style,’ I say, and before Mina can speak, I hear Baekhyun say, ‘I like it too.’ Mina and I both turn to look at him, his stupid grin making me roll my eyes amusedly. ‘Hey, Baek,’ I say, the boy opening his arms for a hug, which I give (reluctantly). Baekhyun is Nayeon’s ex. They’re still friends – they’re actually on really good terms – but I’m still… cautious around him. He’s funny, and we get along, but I can never see him the same after hearing all the drama from Nayeon.

I clear myself a space on the countertop and boost myself up, sitting on the hard wood surface and Mina joins me, Baekhyun standing in front of us. ‘Have you had any wings?’ Baekhyun asks, and Mina and I exchange a glance, obviously thinking the same thing. ‘No, I’m… not really feeling wings,’ I say, Mina nodding in agreement, letting out little giggles behind her hand. ‘Aren’t you hungry?’ he asks, and, to be honest, I’m starving. But I am not about to eat those… frat boy wings, and neither is Mina. ‘Yeah, I could eat.’ ‘Let’s order some pizza then,’ he grins, and I gasp. ‘Pizza? On Wings Wednesday? Isn’t that against frat laws?’ I tease, and he rolls his eyes, pulling out his phone. ‘What toppings do you have?’ ‘Just get margherita.’ ‘Shall I get two larges?’ ‘Yeah, Nayeon will want some too,’ I say, and he rolls his eyes again, an amused smile on his face. ‘I’m not ordering pizza for Nayeon – I’m ordering it for us.’ ‘I’ll transfer you the money.’ ‘y/n… it’s pizza. You don’t need to transfer me money for it.’ ‘Why not? I don’t mind paying.’ ‘Yeah, but what kind of gentleman would I be if I made you pay’ ‘You’re not a gentleman,’ I reply amusedly, and he clutches his heart, pretending to be hurt. ‘I am.’ ‘You’re not. And you’ve made me pay for food before. Remember the Chinese we ordered after the LSG party, and you made me answer the door, so I had to pay?’ I say, and he winces. ‘Well… the pizza makes up for it,’ he says, and I just raise an eyebrow, amused.

It’s so… wrong that he’s only willing to pay for food for me now that he finds me attractive, but I won’t complain aloud; it’s free food after all. And then it gets me thinking. Maybe I should… take advantage of the effect my new look’s having. I mean, frat boys aren’t the… smartest, are they? Namjoon may be an exception when it comes to his education, but his common sense? He has next to none, demonstrated by the stupid situations his whore behaviour has gotten us into. And the rest of them are even stupider than him. I’ve always been a master of manipulation, and it’ll be even easier now they think I’m hot.

It isn’t long until the pizzas arrive and the second Baekhyun leaves to collect them at the door, Mina turns to me with a grin. ‘Girl, if you don’t take advantage of all these boys thirsting over you, I swear, I’ll be so disappointed,’ she says, making me burst into laughter. ‘I was literally just thinking about doing it!’ I exclaim, both of us laughing. ‘No, but for real. You should, like, make the most of it while it lasts. Not to sound nasty, but you know it won’t be long until there’s another girl they’re all into. You should exploit this opportunity whilst you’re still the… object of the affections,’ she says, making me laugh. ‘Exploit this opportunity?’ I repeat, and she nods with a grin. ‘Their generosity will only go to a certain extent,’ I say, and she raises an eyebrow. ‘Wanna test that?’ she asks, a challenging glint in her eye, and I grin, nodding. ‘Go look in the fridge, and when you’re asked what you’re looking for, say… Vanilla Coke.’ ‘Vanilla Coke?’ ‘Mmhmm.’ ‘Okay.’

I head over to the drinks fridge (they keep their food in the mini fridge and their drinks in the big fridge – their priorities are so fucked up) and open the door. I scan the bottles, seeing mainly lemonade and coke with a couple alcoholic bottles, but no Vanilla Coke. ‘y/n!’ I hear from behind me, and I turn to see Donghyuck stood there, a big grin on his face. ‘Hyuck! Hey!’ I exclaim, throwing my arms around him. Donghyuck and I did extra credit classes together last year, and I’ve barely seen him since. ‘You look so different!’ he says, holding me away to inspect me, hands light on my shoulders, and I grin, bending one leg at the knee and striking a pose, making him laugh. ‘It’s weird to see you in clothes that fit,’ he teases, and I roll my eyes. ‘Don’t even. Everyone’s making such a big deal of it.’ ‘Yeah, because you look hot.’ ‘Whatever.’

I turn back to the fridge, and he comes to stand beside me. ‘Whatcha looking for?’ ‘Vanilla Coke. I’m, like craving it,’ I lie, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘You’re lucky we’ve got lemonade and coke. KPN stick to basics,’ he says, and I roll my eyes. ‘Well, maybe you shouldn’t. Vanilla Coke is amazing.’ ‘Well, the corner shop down the road might have some. Shall we go get some?’ he suggests, and I’m shocked. Mina was right. He’s willing the leave Wings Wednesday with his frat brothers to go get Vanilla Coke from the shop with me. ‘You sure?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘It’s only a two-minute walk.’ ‘Okay. Let’s g-’ ‘y/n!’ I hear Mina call before materialising next to me. ‘Hey, Mina,’ I say, Donghyuck greeting the girl too. ‘Hey, Hyuck. I’m need to steal y/n. Emergency,’ she says, and my eyes widen. I’ve literally left her alone for a minute. What emergency does she have? ‘You okay?’ ‘Yeah, it’s just… I started. Do you have a pad?’ she whispers, loud enough for Donghyuck to hear, the boy wrinkling his nose in disgust, making me roll my eyes. Why boys are so grossed out about periods, I don’t know. It took two entire years of friendship with Namjoon to get him to buy me some pads. ‘Yeah, I do.’ ‘Will you come to the toilet with me?’ she asks, and I nod, apologising to Donghyuck before Mina drags me out of the kitchen, through the living room and upstairs.

‘Oh, shit! My pads are in Nayeon’s bag,’ I say when we reach the top of the stairs, and Mina lets out an annoyed noise. ‘I don’t actually need a pad, stupid! I was just getting you away from him,’ she whispers before pulling me into the bathroom. ‘What? Why?’ ‘Because now he’ll go get your Vanilla Coke from the shop and you won’t have to go with him,’ she says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Are you kidding? He’s not gonna go.’ ‘Yes, he will,’ she says, before letting out an exasperated sigh. ‘Remember when I stayed home for a few months, because I wasn’t well?’ she asks, and I nod – Nayeon was heartbroken that she didn’t have Mina to gossip with in her lectures. ‘When I came back, all the boys were fussing over me. Trust me; he will go and get that coke.’

We spend a couple minutes in the bathroom, reapplying our lipgloss and fixing our hair, before we head back downstairs, quickly grabbing two of the empty stools in the kitchen, Bambam sat next to Mina and Namjoon sat next to me, chatting with Minho about football strategy for their next match. ‘y/n!’ I hear Donghyuck’s voice after a few minutes, making me stop mid-conversation with Yugyeom about dessert on Monday at Red Velvet (it was so good, I can’t stop thinking about it – I might have to drag Namjoon back there this weekend). I turn to see him stood at the door, holding up a bottle of Vanilla Coke, and I have to stifle a laugh, pushing down guilt. ‘Oh, my God, thank you, Hyuck! You’re the best!’ I exclaim, giving the boy a hug before he disappears to find me a clean cup. ‘I was right,’ Mina says with a grin. ‘I feel bad.’ ‘Don’t. You didn’t make him get it.’ ‘Yeah, but I’m not even gonna drink it. I don’t like Vanilla Coke.’ ‘Well, it’s a good thing I do.’

joon: u got a lecture tmrw

y/n: it’s Friday tomorrow right ?

joon: um ye how do u not know

joon: r u still drunk from last night

y/n: I wasn’t drunk! I didn’t even touch any alcohol !

joon; then y were u letting johnny touch u up

y/n: I wasn’t! there was fluff on my boob and he took it off for me !

joon: ur so naive

joon: n e ways, do u have a lecture tmrw

y/n: yeah, 1-3

joon: wanna go 4 coffee after ill pick u up

y/n: sounds good

y/n: I’ll pay

joon: no

y/n: you paid for dessert !

joon: idc, ill pay 4 coffee

joon: u save ur money 4 clothes ;)

y/n: ew

joon: bitch do u want coffee or no

y/n: yes :)))

joon: ill b there @ 3, dnt b late like monday

y/n: okayyy see you at three joonie

joon: yep, night sexc

y/n: ew

joon: fine u can walk 2 starbucks

y/n: NO I’M SORRY

y/n: joon pls answer

y/n: stop leaving me on read !

y/n: fine, you can go to starbucks by yourself

joon: sorry

joon: y/n

joon: r u there

joon: bitch answer me

joon: ignore me if u wanna fuck

y/n: you’re such an idiot

joon: gn y/nie

y/n: night stupid, ilyyyy

joon: luv u 2 dummy

‘Hi, welcome to Starbucks! What can I get you?’ the barista asks, smiling widely. He’s handsome, with dirty blond hair pulled back into a ponytail and sparkling brown eyes, and I can’t help but smile back. ‘Hi, can I get two large iced vanilla lattes please?’ I ask, the boy nodding as he clicks away at the register. My eyes flit to his little name tag. His name is Hyunjin. Cute. ‘What name shall I put on the cups?’ he asks, eyes sparkling when he looks back up at me, and I smile shyly when I say, ‘y/n.’ ‘Pretty name for a pretty girl,’ he replies, not giving me a moment to process the compliment before he says, ‘that’ll be £7.40. Cash or card?’ ‘Card,’ a voice behind me says, and I turn to see Jaemin stood there, smiling. ‘Can I add a large iced americano to that too?’ he says, holding up his card, and Hyunjin nods, tapping at the register. ‘Jaemin, don’t. I’ll pay,’ I say, though it’s Namjoon’s money in my hand, not my own. ‘It’s fine, y/n. I don’t mind,’ he says with a grin, and I smile back, touched.

Jaemin moves around me to pay for the three drinks, and I feel a little awkward, stood behind him, waiting. ‘How have you been, y/n?’ he asks once he’s paid, and I smile. ‘I’ve been really good, thanks. How about you?’ ‘Yeah, great. You look… different since the last time I saw you,’ he says with a little smirk, and I roll my eyes, an amused smile playing at my lips. ‘I’m assuming that was a compliment.’ ‘Of course. How could it be anything other than a compliment when the ‘different’ I’m talking about is this?’ he says with a flirty grin, motioning to my outfit (a pair of tight black cargo trousers and a long-sleeved black top, big black stomper boots on my feet and silver jewellery).

Jaemin flirts with me for a little while, but his americano is ready before mine and Joon’s lattes and he has a lecture at 3.30, so he leaves with the promise of continuing our conversation at the ASP party tomorrow, which I had no idea about. ‘y/n!’ Hyunjin calls and I go over to grab the lattes. I notice a caramel shortbread on a plate beside the cups, and I look up at him questioningly, the boy grinning back. ‘It’s on the house,’ he says, and I can’t help but let out a giggle, flattered. ‘Thank you.’ ‘No problem… y/n. I’m a student, at the university, and I heard your… friend talking about the party tomorrow. I’ll be there, and it’d be nice to see you,’ he says, smiling as he leans against the counter casually, my heart jumping. He’s hot, he’s confident and he’s sweet – I could definitely see myself getting to know him. ‘Yeah, it’d be nice to see you too,’ I reply shyly, breaking off our eye contact after a few seconds. ‘See you tomorrow then,’ he grins before turning to deal with the next customer.

I carefully take the lattes and the shortbread over to mine and Joon’s table in the corner, the boy instantly biting into the shortbread. ‘That is mine.’ ‘I paid for your coffee, so I can have a bite of your shortbread,’ he says, mouth full of food, and I scrunch my nose up in disgust, sitting down opposite him. ‘No, actually, you didn’t.  Jaemin did,’ I say, dropping Joon’s money on the table in front of him, and he frowns. ‘Who’s Jaemin? The cute barista you were just flirting with?’ he asks drily as he picks up one of the coffees, taking a sip. ‘No, his name’s Hyunjin. And I wasn’t flirting with him,’ I say, embarrassed, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘Then what’s this?’ he asks, holding his cup out to me. I can’t hold back my smile when I see that Hyunjin’s written his number on the label with a smiley face beside it. ‘Exactly what I thought. Anyway… who’s Jaemin?’ ‘KPN Jaemin. He was behind me in the queue and he paid for our drinks. And then Hyunjin gave me the shortbread for free,’ I say, and Joon narrows his eyes at me.

‘I can’t believe you’re making these boys do all these things for you.’ ‘They’re doing it voluntarily – I’m not making them do anything!’ ‘So you didn’t make Donghyuck get your Vanilla Coke on Wednesday?’ ‘No, he choose to go get it!’ ‘Well, you’re putting Tia and Tamera to good use.’ ‘Tia and Tamera?’ I ask, confused, and he points at my chest. ‘Tia… and Tamera,’ he says, naming each boob, ‘don’t you listen to Doja Cat?’ ‘Not religiously – Say So’s the only song of hers on my Spotify.’ ‘Tasteless.’ ‘You’re tasteless for accusing me of using my boobs to manipulate boys,’ I hiss, and he rolls his eyes. ‘Did I lie?’ ‘Yes!’ ‘Okay, maybe I did. It’s not just Tia and Tamera. It’s Tia and Tamera and… Nicole!’ he says, and I blink in confusion. ‘Nicole?’ ‘Use your brain.’ ‘Did you just name my ass Nicole?’ I ask incredulously, and he nods, seemingly proud of himself. ‘People look at it more than they look at your face, so I think it deserves naming,’ he says bitterly, and I gasp. ‘That was low. People look at my face. I’m not just my body. My face is pretty too,’ I say coldly, a little hurt, and he looks guilty. ‘Well, of course your face is pretty, I just-’ ‘You just what? Judged me, even though you’ve slept with more girls than I’ve ever been friends with? Just remember that there’s a lot you’ve done that I could judge you on, but I don’t, because we’re best friends.’

The air is tense after I finish speaking, and I feel sick. Joon and I have never argued. Our friendship has always been so laidback, so chill, so easy. I’ve never had any downs in my friendship with him because we get along so well. But I’m surprised at him being so judgmental, and so… douchey about me getting some male attention for the first time in… well, forever. ‘Sorry, y/n. I’m being a dick,’ he says softly, and I can see that he feels guilty. I decide it’s best to end our argument here, because this isn’t a nice feeling. ‘Whatever, it’s fine, Joon. Anyway… you didn’t tell me ASP are having a party tomorrow! Am I not invited?’ I tease, and he grins, the tension between us gone. ‘No, you’re not. I’m tired of you being so dependent on me.’ ‘Shut it. You’d be lost without me.’ ‘Whatever. I was supposed to tell you about it at KPN, but I barely got to speak to you. You were… popular that night,’ he says quietly, not meeting my eyes, and suddenly, I can feel the awkwardness making a reappearance. ‘Ah, well, I guess there’s no point asking you to take me to Red Velvet then,’ I say wistfully, trying to change the subject, and he rolls his eyes. ‘Ask Wang, he’ll take you.’ ‘No, it’s fine. I don’t wanna be bloated at the party. We can reschedule to Sunday – order some for a hangover cure. Can I sleep over?’ I ask, and he nods, smiling to himself. ‘You and Nayeon are always welcome. There’s enough bed space for the three of us.’ ‘You say that, and yet, you end up on the floor with us two in your bed every time.’ ‘I’ll climb in with you while you’re asleep.’ ‘Isn’t that illegal?’ ‘Shut up and eat your shortbread. Or do you not wanna be bloated?’ ‘Matter of fact, you’re right. These cargo trousers are already tight.’ ‘That’s because you’ve got a fat ass.’

y/n: hey, is this hyunjin ? from Starbucks ?

hyunjin: yeah, and is this y/n ? the pretty cargo trousers girl ?

y/n: the one and only ☺️

hyunjin: I was worried you wouldn’t reach out to me after I saw you go and sit with that boy

hyunjin: I felt terrible bc I didn’t even ask if you had a boyfriend

y/n: oh no, he isn’t my boyfriend

y/n: he’s my best friend, namjoon

hyunjin: as in kim namjoon ?

y/n: yep, you’ve probably heard of him lol

hyunjin: I have lmao he has quite a reputation

hyunjin: I didn’t recognise him

hyunjin: I just saw you go and sit with a handsome boy and I felt awful

y/n: well, you don’t have to feel bad

y/n: and he’s not that handsome lmao

y/n: he’s just… namjoon

hyunjin: well, I’ll have to thank him when I see him

hyunjin: if he hadn’t given you my number from his cup, I’d have felt like an idiot

y/n: it’s a good thing he pointed it out to me lol

hyunjin: yeah, I’m relieved

hyunjin: I know it’s forward of me and I hope you don’t think I’m out of line

hyunjin; but I just thought you were really cute and I didn’t want to waste the opportunity

hyunjin: especially after jaemin paid for your drinks and flirted with you

hyunjin: I know it sounds silly but I was debating whether or not it was worth competing with him

y/n: jaemin’s not really interested, he flirts with anything that has a pulse

y/n: but I’m glad you didn’t waste the opportunity

y/n: I thought you were cute too, and I love your hair

hyunjin: ah thank you! I was a little nervous about growing it out

y/n: it’s unique, and it really suits you

hyunjin: thanks y/n :)

hyunjin: it’s late so I’m gonna head to bed but I’m glad you texted me, and I look forward to seeing you tomorrow !

y/n: okay, hyunjin, goodnight ! see you tomorrow :)

hyunjin: goodnight ! :)

joon: do u need a lift tmrw

y/n: no, jackson said he’s gonna pick us up

y/n: but thank you for offering anywayyy

joon: ok

joon: why did it take you 30 mins 2 reply its lit rally 2am, what else r u busy with

y/n: I was texting

joon: who

y/n: oh, just the, um, the girls groupchat, to talk about what we’re gonna wear tomorrow

joon: ok

y/n: I’m gonna go to bed, I’ll speak to you tomorrow

joon: aight gn dum dum

y/n: night joonie, sweet dreamsss

joon: ill dream of u in ur crop tops

y/n: pervert

joon: luv u ;)

y/n: love you more dumbass

‘y/n! y/n! y/n!’ ‘Oh, my God, Nayeon, you’re like a child! I’m mid-conversation!’ ‘I know, but this is important!’ she says, tugging on the strap of my top, her force nearly making me spill my drink down my outfit. I thought I’d dress simple, in just a black strappy lowcut crop top and a pair of ripped blue jeans, fluffy black slides on my feet and simple gold jewellery to accessorise. ‘Sorry, Dahyun,’ I sigh with a roll of my eyes, the girl grinning back. ‘It’s fine – go deal with your important business,’ she laughs, and Nayeon takes this as a signal to drag me into the kitchen, leaving Dahyun alone in the back garden. ‘What is it?’ I ask, and she grins. ‘I found your cute barista boy! Well, I think so, anyway. Not many boys have dirty blond ponytails.’ ‘Oh… okay.’ ‘Aren’t you excited?’ ‘I think you’re excited enough for both of us.’ ‘I’m serious, y/n! I saw him, and he’s really hot! You’ve been texting all day, and you said he’s really sweet. He could be your first boyfriend!’ ‘Nayeon, you’re getting ahead of yourself – I’ve literally known him for… 32 hours. And I don’t even know him, really. All I know is his name and that he works at Starbucks.’ ‘Well… this is your chance to get to know him. He’s with his friends in the living room – go,’ she says, not giving me a chance to reply before she pushes me through the open door.

He spots me instantly, calling my name, and I scan the room until my eyes meet his, smiles breaking across our faces as he waves me over. I head around the edges of the room, not wanting to get caught in the group of people dancing, until I reach him and his friends in the corner. ‘Hey, y/n! You look nice!’ he exclaims, smiling widely, and I feel butterflies; he really is so handsome. ‘Thanks, Hyunjin. You do, too,’ I say honestly, looking him up and down; his black jeans, loose blue and white striped shirt only buttoned halfway with a black t-shirt beneath are a chic and stylish contrast to the Starbucks apron he was wearing yesterday. Half of his hair is up in a ponytail with a few loose strands framing his face and his ears are adorned with earrings, sparkling in the low light. He introduces me to his friends, who all seem nice (I think I’ve seen a few of them before – I’m sure a couple of them are KPN frat brothers). As soon as the introductions are done, he asks if I’ll go with him to get a drink. He takes my hand gently – a shock running up my arm at the contact – and leads me into the kitchen, getting himself a bottle of Soju from the fridge. ‘Do you want one?’ he asks, and I scrunch up my nose – I find Soju absolutely disgusting. ‘Thanks, but I’ll stick to my vodka coke for now,’ I say, holding up my cup, the boy laughing as he nods, shutting the fridge after him.

We stand in one corner of the kitchen, chatting, and our conversation flows so easily. He’s an architecture and design major, but he does dance on the side too, with some of his friends. I ask him to tell me the basic things about him and I find out that he has a dog called Kkami, he loves autumn, he’s allergic to cat fur, his favourite food is sushi and his least favourite foods are onion, carrot and eggplant. Even though he’s so handsome (like intimidatingly handsome), he’s so modest, down-to-earth, and just so sweet. He’s like a breath of fresh air in comparison to the boys I spend time with on a daily basis (no shade to Jackson and Joon, but they’re nowhere near as gentlemanly as Hyunjin – he gets me two refills before I even realise that my cup is empty, and he gets me two slices of pizza as soon as it arrives because I mentioned I hadn’t eaten). I can already feel myself crushing on him; every time he compliments me, I get so flustered and all I can do is giggle – two weeks ago me would have hated now me.

After what could be hours (I’m having the time of my life chatting away to him), he asks me to dance with him, and I’m filled with an inexplicable fear. Actually, no. It’s explicable; I have never danced at a party before. Ever. ‘It’s okay… I won’t bite,’ he teases, and I take a deep breath, smiling as I nod. He takes my hand again, his touch so light and gentle, and instead of pulling me along behind him, he lets me go first, standing just a few inches behind me as we head into the living room. We mould into the group of our peers dancing, and I feel a little awkward at first, but I soon loosen up into the rhythm of the Rihanna and Bryson Tiller song pulsing out into the room. He’s really the perfect gentleman; he doesn’t lay a hand on me other than to move me out of the way when someone drunk stumbles past. It’s a nice change from the boys that don’t hesitate to just come up behind a girl and grab onto her waist, forcing himself onto her.

But after a while, I can feel the several vodka cokes starting to take effect, my mind a little hazy, and a tipsy y/n mixed with the RnB baselines floating out from the speakers isn’t a good combination. Hyunjin’s tan skin glows in the low light, his eyes sparkling, and he looks so fucking handsome, his plump lips stretching up into a flawless grin when I hook my arms around his neck loosely, moving closer. We dance a little more… intimately, our bodies pressed together after a few minutes, and his hands rest on my lower back, not venturing any lower, and his eyes stay on my face, even though my cleavage is right there. His gentlemanliness just makes him even sexier to me.

I look up at him, and notice that some of his hair in his face, and so I reach to brush it back behind his ear. His hair is so soft, the locks just gliding between my fingers, and I can’t help but run my fingers through the loose hair that he hasn’t pulled up into a ponytail, my nails gently scraping against the back of his neck. He shivers a little, his neck obviously sensitive, and it makes me look him in the eyes, practically getting lost in them. And before my brain can even register it, he leans towards me and my eyes flutter shut, his lips softly brushing against mine a few moments later. My first kiss.

He moves away, almost to check if I’m okay with it, and I just lean towards him, pressing our lips together again, making him let out a chuckle against my mouth. My mind numbs a little when he parts my lips with his, his tongue sliding into my mouth, and I really didn’t know that kissing was this good. His hands press into my back, holding me against him, and I grip onto his strong shoulders, his scent of lemony shampoo and expensive aftershave flooding my senses as our lips move against each other. ‘y/n, get a room!’ I hear Jin, one of Joon’s stupid friends, shout, followed by laughter, making me break away from Hyunjin, blinking as though I’ve just woken up, Hyunjin just smiling back at me. I turn to Jin, shooting him a dirty look and telling him to fuck off before turning back to Hyunjin. I feel braver than usual due to the alcohol and the fact that I’ve just kissed a boy I met yesterday in the middle of a frat party, and so I ask, ‘do you… want to get a room?’ ‘Um… what?’ he asks, blinking, and I feel the humiliation setting in already. ‘I mean, we don’t have to… but I thought you might want t-’ ‘Yes. I do want to.’

We’re both laughing drunkenly as we head up the stairs (it seems the several bottles of Soju he’s had have made him a little tipsy), our hands clasped together. ‘Whose room are we using?’ ‘Um, we can use Namjoon’s. I’m sure he won’t mind – he’ll be proud I’ve finally kissed a boy,’ I say, leading him into Joon’s room. The second we enter, he shuts the door, pushing me up against it and pressing our lips together again, his body against mine and our hands still intertwined against the door. I tangle my free hand into his soft locks, his free hand gently roaming up and down my side, and it’s bliss, the way he touches me. He’s such a good kisser – though it’s not like I have much experience anyway. ‘Did you say I’m your first kiss?’ he asks, lips moving against mine, and I let out a little noise of affirmation, the boy grinning. ‘Good,’ he murmurs, the word making my stomach turn with butterflies.

But it’s like I’m not allowed good things. There’s a loud hammering against the other side of the door, making both of us jump, and I manage to move out of the way just before it flies open, Namjoon storming in, anger all over his face. ‘y/n,’ he says, voice shaking, and I look at him in concern, wondering what’s happened. ‘Joon, are you okay?’ ‘No, I’m not,’ he says, teeth gritted, and it’s then that I realise; he’s angry at me. ‘Oh, did you… should I have asked you if I could use your room? I didn’t think you’d mind, I’m so-’ ‘God, you’re so fucking dense!’ he shouts, making me flinch, and Hyunjin looks between us before saying, ‘y/n, I’m gonna go, you guys speak in private. I’ll… be downstairs.’ I nod, too shocked to speak, and even more shocked at the way Namjoon stares daggers at Hyunjin as he slips past him.

‘What’s your problem? There’s no need to be such a dick to me, or to Hyunjin.’ ‘Oh, so you do know his name? I’m surprised, since you only met him yesterday.’ ‘Stop being so fucking judgy! You’re allowed to fuck anything with a vagina, but I kiss a boy I met yesterday and the world’s ending!’ ‘I’m not judgy, y/n, I’m jealous! Can’t you fucking tell?’ he practically screams, and the words don’t register with me for a moment. ‘Jealous?’ I echo, and he lets out a humourless laugh, sinking down onto his bed. ‘Yes, y/n, jealous. I’ve only been in love with you for two fucking years,’ he mutters, the words hitting me like a ton of bricks. He’s in love with me. My best friend is in love with me. ‘Joon, I-’ ‘You what, y/n?’ he asks angrily, and I’m filled with such rage, I want to slap him.

‘I didn’t know! If you’d told me, I’d understand why you’re so angry! But you didn’t, so stop fucking shouting at me, and being such a dick, and making me feel guilty when I shouldn’t!’ ‘There was no point telling you, because you don’t love me back!’ he shouts, and now I feel even more guilty. ‘I love you, Joon, but as my best frie-’ ‘And that’s why I didn’t tell you! I could deal before, when I was still getting to spend time with you every day, but now that you’re getting all this attention from all these boys, it’s so… difficult.’ ‘You still should have told me,’ I say quietly, and he scoffs. ‘There was no point! It doesn’t change anything! You still don’t like me!’ ‘No, I don’t, but you shouldn’t be angry at me about it.’ ‘I think I have a right to be angry!’ he shouts, and my eyes fill with tears. ‘Well, you don’t! Forgive me, Namjoon, but you’re not exactly a gentleman. Why would I fall for a boy that has a different girl in his bed every day, who plays girls like it’s his job, who’s misogynistic and vulgar and a dog? You don’t get to be such a dick to women and have your best friend fall in love with you, because it doesn’t work that way!’

‘Oh, and Hyunjin isn’t a dick?’ ‘No! He’s sweet, and he’s kind, an-’ ‘You’ve known him for one day, and you’re already rushing upstairs to lose your fucking virginity to him! I thought you’d care more about your first time!’ he shouts, still so judgmental, and I feel myself practically shaking with rage. How dare he behave the way he does and judge me, even though he’s supposedly in love with me? ‘Why do you care who I lose my virginity to?’ ‘Because I’m in love with you! Aren’t you fucking keeping up?’ ‘No, Namjoon, you’re not in love with me. If you were, you’d be happy that I’m happy. Instead you’re possessive and judgemental and douchey!’ We’re shouting at each other now, and anyone outside will be able to hear, but I don’t care. Let them hear how much of a dick he is. ‘I loved who you were, when-’ ‘When what? When boys didn’t talk to me? When you and Jackson were the only boys I spoke to at parties? When I was pure, untouched, innocent? Now, you’re annoyed, because I’m not who you thought I was. I don’t owe you anything, Namjoon, because you can’t expect me to have just known.’

‘Just go, y/n,’ he says, all of the anger in him disappearing, and he sounds so tired, looks so tired. And, as always, I feel guilty. ‘Joon-’ ‘No. Please, just go,’ he says, and when he looks up at me, my heart breaks. His eyes are full of tears, sadness, hurt, but the second they land on mine, they’re filled with love, too. Love that I can’t reciprocate because, he might be my best friend, but he is disgusting to girls. And I can’t love that. I can’t love him. ‘Okay. I’ll go,’ I whisper, turning away and leaving his room before I burst into tears.

[therainbowwillow]

https://therainbowwillow.tumblr.com/post/640094221880197120/therainbowwillow -Part 2

Well! Part 3/??? Here’s the premise: Hades’ terms for Orpheus leaving Hadestown are extremely harsh. Persephone threatens to leave him, and he’s forced to back down, leaving Orpheus with a single rule: he can’t sing until he’s out. He orders the residents of Hade to kill Orpheus, the only living mortal in the underworld. Eurydice, Persephone, and other mythological heroes join him on the journey to escape. Hermes gets word of his son’s trial and decides he’ll assist Orpheus. Dionysus joins him to visit Persephone (his mother, I’m using his Orphic parentage: Hades and Persephone) and Apollo comes, inspired by Orpheus’s attempt at freeing Eurydice, to find his lover, Hyacinthus.

TLDR Hadestown, but a different terms for our favorite singer and WAY more characters because why not.

Unrelated but my phone really wants to autocorrect “Orpheus” to “Orange,” which makes for a whole different story, honestly.

Anyway, here we go:

Eurydice lays beside her sleeping lover, staring up at the cracked ceiling of Persephone’s greenhouse. Burnt vines wrap the walls and climb towards the artificial lights of Hadestown. “Plants don’t grow towards neon the way they do the sun,” Persephone had said. “Not even when coerced by a goddess.” Still, the abandoned building provides decent shelter, which is far better than the rest of the underworld. Instead of trapping the heat, it seems to keep in the cold.

Eurydice glances at Orpheus. Even in the cool of the greenhouse, he sweats in his sleep. He’s exhausted and hungry, she knows, but they have no outside food. If he eats the food of Hadestown, she fears it’ll bind him to the damned place, just as the pomegranate seeds had bound Persephone.

Orpheus rolls over. He mumbles something incomprehensible. Eurydice keeps a closer eye on him. “Persephone?” she asks.

“Hm?” The goddess responds.

“What will Hades do if he catches us? I know the stories... Sisyphus, pushing his stone uphill forever. Tantalus, starved, with food just out of reach. Eternal torture. Is that what lays ahead?” Her voice doesn’t quiver. She finds she isn’t afraid of the answer, not after the mines. Hours and hours of her pickaxe against stone. And once she’d finished, she’d be building Hades’ wall or laying wires or partaking in some other pointless feat. Everyone in Hadestown feels like Sisyphus now.

“It’s best... it’s best if you don’t think about it.” Persephone sips from her canteen. Alcohol, certainly. Her voice has a drunken lisp to it.

“I want to know what’s at stake,” Eurydice says. Orpheus again tosses in his sleep.

“Eternal torture sums it up fine.”

“He’ll separate us, won’t he?”

Persephone shrugs. “Your contract will change. All of ours’ will. Probably a ban from speaking to each other.”

“What can he do to stop us?” Achilles mutters. “We’re dead already and he took our paridise. I can bear his whip, his mines. This whole place is torture.”

“Tell me about it.” Persephone rolls her eyes. “A goddess of spring, confined to... this.” She gestures around her.

“They say you loved him,” Eurydice says.

“Loved him. An emphasis on loved.” She takes another sip of her alcohol and slips off her wedding band. She flips it in the air and catches it. “I chose this. I chose Hades over light. Over life and clean air and springtime. I preferred Hades’ tyranny over Demeter’s. That dance... it almost felt like a fresh start. But what did I expect?” She takes a withered vine between her fingers. “This is futile. We should be planning. This place sucks the life out of everything it touches. Our poet included.”

Orpheus gasps. “Speaking of our poet, he’s awake!” She tilts her head. “You alright?” Eurydice asks.

Orpheus swallows. His eyes are wide and his breaths quick. He shakes his head. “No... no. You need to go. All of you.”

“Hey,” she rests her palm over his hands. “I’m not going anywhere. You need rest.”

He wipes his eyes. “You don’t understand. You don’t understand! Go. Please Eurydice. Please.”

“Shh... shh. You’re alright.”

He snatches his hand away. “No. I’m not. It’s... it’s too far. I’ll be... I’ll be dead by the time we reach the Styx.”

“Orpheus! Don’t talk like that. We’re gonna make it.”

“No, we aren’t. Hades is going to find me and he’ll kill me because I... I can’t do this. I can’t walk alone and I’m not allowed to sing and whatever he did to me...”

“Orpheus, look at me. You’re gonna be fine.”

“It’s not over, okay? I... I should’ve told you but...”

“What are you talking about, Orpheus? What is this?”

He sobs and sinks into her arms. “I feel worse. Eurydice, I’m getting worse,” he whispers.

“Once we’re out-“

“Once you’re out. Leave me here.”

“How can you say that? I’m not letting Hades have you!” Eurydice raises her voice.

“I came for you. And now... you’re dragging me out. I’m useless and I’m holding you back. Eurydice, I’d never forgive myself if you didn’t... if...”

“We’re going to get out of here.”

“Would you listen to me?” He yells. “We are not going to get out of here. Not so long as you’re carrying dead weight! I...” he tries to push himself upright but sinks back into Eurydice’s embrace. “I can’t sing. I can’t walk. I can’t even stand.”

She doesn’t respond. She just holds him, tight in her arms. “I don’t care,” she whispers. “I’ll carry you out of here if I have to. I love you and I’m never letting you go again. I promise.”

Orpheus says nothing. “Orpheus?”

She lifts him up and his chin falls against his chest. “Orpheus... no. No, you can’t do this to me.” She places a finger under his nose and feels his shallow breaths. She breathes a sigh of relief. “You’re alright. You’re alright.” She isn’t sure if she’s trying to convince herself or Orpheus, who cannot hear her. She lays his head back down on his coat, a makeshift pillow.

Patroclus kneels at her side. “Orpheus is right. He is getting worse.”

“What’s wrong with him?” She begs.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “He could be ill with some plague, but that’s Apollo’s domain, not Hades’s. Maybe he is only hungry or dehydrated. Regardless, he’s right that he won’t last forever down here. We should get moving.” Eurydice nods. “I wish I could be more help.”

“Someone’s here!” Achilles shouts. Patroclus leaps to his feet.

“Protect Orpheus,” he commands Eurydice and Persephone.

“If it’s my husband,” Persephone growls, “I’ll deal with him.”

Patroclus nods and returns to Achilles.

—————————————

Hades sits beside his office window. He’d given the orders in the morning: kill Orpheus. If the boy dies, his killer will not be asked to work for the rest of their time in the underworld. His plan would soon succeed. His shades would end the fool’s life and finally, finally, Hades would have his kingdom back. It had only been 48 hours or so since Orpheus’s failed serenade, but it had felt like an eternity.

Hades reaches for his wine glass. The portrait he’d torn from the wall catches his eye. Persephone, smiling, a babe at her knee. It had been a long while since he’d seen that child. Dionysus, god of wine and madness. He visited the underworld plenty, once or more every winter. Never the tower, though. He only knew the boy had come by because his wife would return, drunk out of her mind. He’d drag her to bed and every time, he’d bribe Hypnos to keep his dear Persephone asleep an extra few hours, to let her sleep off the hangover. Dionysus could wash away her intoxication with a wave of his hand. He used to. But for a long while now, she’d return drunk. Upon her request, Hades knew. He tried now not to feel the sting of this fact. His own wife would rather be blackout drunk than speak to him.

Still, he loves her. He’d laid a thousand miles of wires to brighten his kingdom, to mimic the sun she so loved. And she’d complained it was too bright. He’d let her have a wide stretch of land to attempt to grow a garden. He’d tended it with her, but still, the plants wilted. And now he had let Orpheus tear out his heart for Persephone. He’d done everything for her, nearly lost everything for her, and still, she hates him.

Hades lifts the painting from the ground and lays it across his desk. He sees his labors. To keep his hold on the underworld and his wife’s affection, if she has any left. He must prioritize his realm. He loves her, more than any kingdom, but the binds of death must not be unwound, Hades knows. The mortal realm his wife so loves would wither without death. It cannot be overrun by fleeing shades. His kingdom is his responsibility, and he must keep it in check. And so he tucks the painting into a drawer, gone from sight, gone from mind.

————————————

Hermes was beginning to wonder if Zeus could think up a worse punishment than his current circumstances. Dionysus tips his head back and chugs another flask of wine. “Want some?” he offers, for what must be the thousandth time.

Hermes sighs. “Yes.”

“Aha! Finally! The best of the best for you, my friend.” He holds out the flask and curtseys, sloshing wine over his tunic.

Hermes pinches the bridge of his nose. “Read the room,” he mutters.

“What?”

“I said thanks,” he lies. He takes a sip. The wine is incredible, better than any mortal’s best vintage.

“My dear flower, light in my eye, the sun to my sky...” Apollo recites.

Hermes wants to scream. His son is probably miserable, cast into Tartarus or locked in a cell somewhere, and here he is, listening to Apollo memorizing lines for Hyacinthus, who’s probably so deep under the Lethe’s amnesia that he won’t remember who the god is. He takes another sip of wine. “Dionysus!”

“Yes?” Dionysus laughs.

Hermes grits his teeth. Intoxication is no help to Dionysus’s ability to understand the severity of the situation. “Promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“You’ll undo the effects of your alcohol on me before we get to Hadestown.”

“Sure.”

“Excellent. Now, do you have something stronger?”

“‘Course! Here.”

Hermes drinks. The alcohol burns his throat. He forces himself not to cough.

“Too strong?”

“Mm.” Hermes clears his thoat. “Not at all.” He finishes the flask.

—————————————

“Show yourself!” Achilles shouts. Patroclus stands back to back with him, armed with a pickaxe from the mines.

“I don’t think you’re in much of a place to be making demands.” The voice echoes from every corner of the greenhouse.

“Funny, I disagree.” Achilles whirls and throws his pick axe through the man’s chest. His body dissolves as if it’s made of smoke.

“Could’ve questioned him,” Patroclus says.

“What would we ask? ‘Who sent you?’ Take a wild guess.”

Patroclus shrugs. “There’ll be more of them.”

“So we don’t let our guard down. Let’s get going, Pa-“

“Argh!” He yelps.

“Patroclus!” Achilles whirls. A bowman from the roof. “To cover!” He grabs his lover’s hands and drags him to the nearest wall, out of the range of the archer’s arrows.

Patroclus clutches his shoulder. “If I hadn’t moved, that would’ve gone through my chest,” he states. “Warn Persephone. I’m alright.”

Achilles nods. “Keep your eyes open. There’s no way he’s alone. I won’t be long.”

He runs along the wall. He glances up at the ceiling. The archer is gone. He runs for the exit, then the entrance to Persephone’s greenhouse. An arrow strikes the ground at his feet. He dives in the door and slams it behind him. “We were followed,” he announces.

“So we discovered.” Persephone’s vines wrap the ground and up the wall, where a man dangles by his wrists. “Orpheus is-“

The door opens, Patroclus stands in its frame. Achilles runs to his side. “I told you to stay behind.”

“There’s more of them. They were going for a better shot on me, so I ran.”

“Your arm...”

“Is fine.” Patroclus answers. “Where’s Orpheus?”

“Here! A hand, one of you?” Eurydice calls from the opposite wall. “He’s hit.” They both run for Orpheus.

Persephone’s captive screams. “I’ll ask again. Who sent you?”

“Hades!” The man yelps. “Please!”

“I knew it,” she snarls. “His orders. What were they? Be exact.”

“Any man who kills Orpheus won’t have to work for the rest of eternity.”

“How many are after him?”

“I don’t know!” He cries. “Please!”

She tightens the vines around his throat and the man vanishes into ashes.

“Is he breathing?” She calls to Orpheus’s aids.

“Yes,” Patroclus replies. “He’s only been hit in the leg.”

Persephone nods. “I’ll hold the doors.”

Orpheus groans. “I know, I know,” Eurydice murmurs. “You’ll be okay.”

“I need to get the arrow out. Give him something to bite down on,” Patroclus tells her.

She stuffs a piece of cloth into his mouth. “Bite.” He does.

“Hold him down.” Orpheus screams. “Almost there. And it’s out. Hold pressure. Right here.” He guides Eurydice’s hands over the wound. “Press hard, don’t let up,” he tells her. “I know it hurts, Orpheus. Focus on Eurydice.”

“O-okay.” Orpheus chokes out.

“Achilles, we’ll need strips of fabric. One of the blankets should be fine. Tie a tourniquet above his wound. Apply pressure. The bleeding will stop.”

Achilles begins to tear a blanket. “Your shoulder, Pat.”

“I’m alright.” He presses a hand against it.

“No, there’s an arrow through your arm. And love, that’s what Hades has on us. If you die, you’re stuck on the banks of the Styx forever. I’m afraid... we’d never see each other again. An eternity without you... I don’t want to imagine it.”

“Okay, okay. Give me a piece of that blanket.” Achilles does. “When I take the arrow out, it’ll bleed. If anything happens, I’d recommend you leave me behind. Hades might let me live, if I say I’ll give him information and you won’t be burdened to carry me.”

“You know I won’t leave you here.”

“Yeah, I thought that might be fruitless.”

“You’re gonna want to see this,” Persephone calls. Achilles stands.

“I’ll be right back,” he tells Patroclus.

“Look.” Persephone points at the roof. An arrow whizzes and the bowman standing on it falls. “Someone wants us to make it out.”

“Or someone wants to take us alive,” he says, grimly.

Something drifts down from overhead. A scrap of fabric, maybe. It lands at Persephone’s feet. A cloth carnation. Beneath it, a note: “Hermes is coming.”

[blacksurvivalnostalgichanges]

Black Survival characters... playing black survival

too meta

Adela: superman. or ig bikini now but i just know him as superman

Adriana:upon killing her you find two inventory slots of just lighters

Alex:yeets a lot of things

Arda:plays it for the ~lore~

Aya:person who moves slowly, and takes the whole game to finish the armor and weapon

Barbara:criticizes the unrealisticness of the crafting system (like how you throw alcohol in a dress and it makes it strong)

Bernice:probably survives a lot but rarely wins (even with bs’ win rates being naturally now)

Camilo:good player but most folks feel physically ill from bearing his attitude while playing

Cathy:great at healing, not quite as great at clinching kills. her chaotic energy makes me think she often cheeses wins

Chiara:too traumatized to play a game like bs i think

Chloe:too kind to try to play a game like bs i think, she strikes me as the friendly hunter in idv sort not the Kill Everyone Else type

Daniel:you know the folks who didn’t enjoy the supernatural stuff in bs (aka nearly everyone i think)? imagine that except ‘monkey king bar is unrealistic’. he seems like that type

Echion:one-trick hand player. probably uses hyunwoo the most since he’s straightforward and free (please don’t take that out of context)

Eleven:probably doesn’t enjoy it much since it’s dark

Eva:probably would enjoy gimmicky stuff like sunset armor, azure dagger

Emma:likes hosting little games with friends but otherwise doesn’t enjoy it much

Fiora:stream snipes to play high high ranking players

Hart:probably too chill to play it

Hyejin:keeps happening to win games because the other person ran out of weapons/their weapon broke

Hyunwoo:punchy boi punch

Isol:one of the few cases where he is indeed exactly like the archetype of people playing him. he’d do about the same shit as your average trapsol player

Jackie:uses pursuit

Jan:played the game for fun then suddenly learned about the fandom and wondered what the fuck is the issue with bianca and echion

Jenny:probably either plays.... as herself, or as mai. maybe eleven

JP:banned for hacking

Lenox:probably plays as someone who isn’t a fisher yet crafts the fishing pole anyway

Leon:wants more cute armor and weapons since there’s like two weapons and three pieces or armor that are cute

Li Dailin:would main characters that depend less on specific timing (like adela and cathy) since i imagine her keyboard reflexes wouldn’t be good enough to rely on the three second duration stuff

Luke: would stream it. i’m not just saying this to push my ‘luke would be a great streamer’ agenda, i genuinely think he’d stream it

Magnus:got banned for being a jerk probably

Mai:the moment you see her username you KNOW finding cloth’s gonna be hard

Nadine:honors her own character by being good at animal control

Nathapon:probably neglects to play it, especially since it really requires you to remember what items are where and i don’t know how his amnesia thing works so he may even be unable to play it without the index

Nicky:uses pursuit

Rio:likely mains as the more stable characters like shoichi

Rosalio:got banned for his username

Rozzi:tryharder, definitely the person i’d want to hit a lot out of spite

Shoichi:high-ranking player, probably good enough to even do guides

Silvia:gives people PAIN when they try to watch it because she ONLY flexes. ONLY. she has little to no plan. it works out? sometimes

Sissela:probably played a couple games then stopped and now draws fanart of it

Sua:probably tried to find mithrill like it was a normal item for several games before being informed that isn’t how it works

William:he feels like the type to stay on the midpoint armor and weapons. like. close helm, umbrella, sheet metal armor, chain leggings. midpoint armor

Xiukai:thrives on learning all the food recipes, has routes around getting enough food, fridges. hard.

Yuki:probably quits the game if things start going wrong, aiming for more perfect runs

Zahir:i’d be surprised if he played any games nevermind the one that requires so much memorization of shit

[lovemesomesurveys]

What do you usually order from Subway/Togo’s/another sandwich place? Wheat bread, turkey, salami, Monterrey Jack cheese, mayo, pickles, and olive oil and vinegar or some kind of sandwich spread.

Have you ever talked about your period with a guy? Were they okay with it, or grossed out? No. I never felt comfortable talking about that with anyone, really, but definitely not a guy. I just always kept that to myself, I didn’t feel the need to discuss it with anyone.

Have you ever been to small/church/bible group/study (forced to or wanted to)? I’ve been to church and I’ve participated in several Bible studies the past year and have done so by choice. I went to church as a kid sometimes with my grandparents, which wasn’t really my choice at the time.

In-N-Out, ever been there? If not, what’s a good burger place around your town? Yeah, numerous times. Would I be a true Californian if I didn’t? ha. Honestly, though, I don’t think it’s that great or what it’s hyped up to be. When we got a Five Guys several years ago, which was a east coast thing, I remember thinking it was way better. 

How many people do you know with the name Ashley/Ashlee? I don’t know any currently.

Have you ever been to an asian (any type) market? If so, what is the closest one to you? Yeah, a few.

What would you do if the person you have feelings for showed up at your door? I don’t have romantic feelings for anyone.

How long does it typically take you to get over people? It always took me a long time.

What did your last text message say? “Yes.”

How many people have texted you today? Did you reply to all of them? No one has texted me so far.

When was the last time you drank something with alcohol? 8 years ago on my birthday.

Have you ever slept with a member of the opposite sex without having sex? I’ve never slept with a member of the opposite sex, period.

Will you talk to the person you like tonight? There’s no such person.

How would you feel if your significant other had tattoos? I don’t think I’d mind. Although, I personally don’t really like a body full of tatts and I really don’t care for face tatts. That’s just my personal preference. 

Do you actually eat breakfast lunch and dinner everyday? No, not all 3. There’s a lot of days I just have dinner and my late night bowl of ramen I have every night. Somedays I have lunch. I rarely have breakfast, but I do eat breakfast food a lot.

Is there something else you should be doing? I should be trying to go to sleep.

Was your last text message from someone of the opposite sex? No.

If you could have a free plane ticket to anywhere, where would you choose to go? I’d have to really think about that, there’s so many places I’d love to visit given the chance. Not in these current times given the pandemic, but ya know.

Have you felt ill at all in the past week? Yes.

What’s the approximate total cost of the clothes you’re wearing? Maybe $40.

Where was the last place on your body that you felt physical pain? My back.

Has someone of the opposite sex made you smile recently? My brother brought me a Starbucks yesterday, which made me smile.

Can your significant other/crush sing? I don’t have either of those

What do you want/need right now? I need to sleep.

How much does the last person you texted really know about you? She knows a lot about me.

Who was the last person you apologized to? What did you apologize for? I apologized just a bit ago when calling to cancel my doctor appointment. 

What are the initials of the person you have feelings for? Sigh.

Did you straighten your hair today? No. I haven’t straightened my hair in years.

Is it okay to like someone else, if you already have a boyfriend/girlfriend? Uh, not to me it isn’t.

Would you spend the night in a haunted house? No.

Look in a mirror. Are you 100% happy with what you see? Why/why not? Umm, how about no.

Will tomorrow be better than today? I haven’t done much today so far, it’s only 7:37AM.

What are you listening to right now? An ASMR video of course.

Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? The receptionist at my doctor’s office.

Do you look your age? I think I look younger.

Last person you texted? My mom.

What color is your hair? Naturally it’s dark brown, but I dye it red. Have you ever gone out of your way to make someone happy? Yes.

Does it bother you when people respond with one word texts? Not unless I feel like there's a reason for the conversation to continue. <<< Yeah, if we’re having a conversation it makes it difficult. Or if I’ve said something I feel warrants more of a response. Sometimes one word is all that’s needed. 

Could you cry right now? I’d rather not.

How late did you stay up last night and why? I think I fell asleep a little after 5AM.

Does it take a lot to make you cry? No. Somedays I’m already on the verge of tears so it takes very little. 

Has anyone made you upset lately? Yes.

When was the last time you completely broke down? About a week ago.

If you were given the chance to go to Paris, would you go? Not currently, but in better circumstances yes absolutely.

Are there certain things that can’t be joked about with you? Certain things, yeah.

Have you ever been dumped? Yes.

Do you like to be in serious relationships or just flings? I’d like to experience a serious relationship. 

How have you been feeling today? Mehhh.

Do you chew your pens? No.

Is there anything you DIDN’T like about today? Like I’ve said, it’s still really early and nothing has happened so far.

Where’s your phone right now? Near me on my bed.

Is there a certain person that makes you feel safe? My family does.

Do you hate the last guy you had a conversation with? No. It was the receptionist at my doctor’s office who I don’t even know, but he seemed nice.

What is the stupidest thing you’ve heard somebody say recently? Uhhh.

What is your favorite slang word for penis? I don’t have a favorite slang word for penis...

If you found a full tube of lipgloss on the ground, would you pick it up and keep it or would you throw it away? Ew, I definitely wouldn’t keep it. I don’t want some random and used lipgloss that’s gross. I wouldn’t do anything with it, I’d just keep going.

Do you ever listen to music to fall asleep to? No, I listen to ASMR.

If your parents.. or anybody else.. found your cell phone, would they be horrified at any of the messages in our inbox/outbox? No. Majority of the messages are from them anyway. The others are from my brother and my Nana lol.

Do you get offended if someone repeatedly checks their mobile phone when you’re out for lunch or dinner? It gets annoying when you’re trying to talk to them and they’re clearly distracted and not paying attention.

When you drink alcohol with friends, do you play drinking games? We did sometimes.

If you were a waiter/waitress, would you make good tips? I don’t know?

Forget about toppings. What type of CRUST do you like on pizzas? I like pan or high rise.

Would you prefer an ice cream sundae or an ice cream cone? Ice cream sundae. I take too long to finish stuff and ice cream cones get too messy.

What are the best kind of Girl Scout cookies? Thin Mints are the top fave, but I like the others as well except for the coconut ones.

Have you ever had an allergic reaction to a certain medication? No.

Puff, puff…do you need an inhaler to survive? No.

What’s your favorite kind of pasta? Spaghetti or pesto pasta.

Do you watch independent films? Yeah, some. If a movie looks interesting then I’ll likely check it out.

Do you constantly doubt yourself? I completely doubt myself.

Have you ever played computer solitaire for hours on end? I probably did when I was a kid. Back when that and messing around on Paint was pretty all there was to do haha.

Are you scared of roller coasters because of Final Destination 3? I was scared before then. 

If you were digging and found buried treasure, would you tell anyone? I’d tell my family and then figure out what to do.

Do you still whip out the Nintendo on random occasions? The only Nintendo I have is an Nintendo Switch.

Have you ever seen anyone fall down an escalator? Funny or scary? Nooo, omg. That wouldn’t be funny at all.

Do you think wearing jeans to work is unprofessional? No, not necessarily. Depends on the job, of course. 

Are you uneasy about eating from a buffet? Yeah, I don’t like buffets.

Can you honestly tell the difference between DiGiorno and delivery pizza? Definitely. My favorite pizza is from this local pizza place, but DiGiorno isn’t bad.

[brokentoasterrr]

i try to never show vulnerability on this blog because i am simply Like That, but i wrote piece of creative writing (ish) about my best friend and i want to share it so here we go

tw for death, implied smoking and drinking and a bunch of other shit. read at your own risk, essentially.

He hates onions. Onions and mushrooms. Still, he eats the noodle stir-fry I make him, with onions and scallions. And the pasta Carbonara with chickpeas instead of bacon, because I'm vegetarian and I like to cook. He eats it despite the uneven pieces of onion speckled throughout creamy sauce that clings to the pasta.

He loves liquorice. I hate it. He buys a bar of liquorice with a caramel center, urges me to try it, so I do. And I like it. But I never eat it again.

He buys a chocolate bar. I'm terrified of germs so when he asks me if I want a bite, I shake my head. The next time he buys a chocolate bar, he lets me break away a piece myself before he does, so I can eat without the anxiety. 

I'm terrified of germs, I'm terrified of becoming ill. I use hand sanitizer until my hands dry out and the skin cracks, wash my hands until my cuticles break apart. He buys me a medium fry from McDonald's, and when I use my hand sanitizer, he doesn't even look at me twice. He stretches his hand out and asks for some. When I don't eat the piece of the fry that my fingers touched, when I put them on a napkin and ignore how anxious it makes me, both to eat and to waste, he nods towards them and says, "Can I eat that?" 

When my hands start to shake because I forgot to eat before I left the house, he drags me to the supermarket. He pays for a chocolate bar, says, "It's better than nothing."

He loves orange and chocolate ice cream. Buys a five litre tub and pays £5 to share with all of us. Ten people. He ends up eating most of it, because no one wanted more than a spoonful or two. I am supposed to go vegan, but I eat some anyway.

He walks around with a lizard made out of fabric and sand in his pocket. Says it's there to keep him company. There's a homeless man at McDonald's. He gives the man the sand filled lizard, and says, "Keep it. So you won't be alone anymore."

I'm angry with my mum. She's left me and my older brother alone again. There's no food in the house and I've eaten pasta with frozen peas and ketchup for three days in a row and I'm angry. I feel neglected and alone. He offers me cigarettes, and acts like a drain in which I can pour all of my problems. He says my feelings are valid, says that love doesn't cancel out the neglect. He puts on some music and makes me laugh.

He never says hello. He says, "Good morning." He never says goodbye. He says, "Good luck."

I'm homeless. Well, not quite. I live in the spare room in my grandma's house, young with no money other than the weekly allowance that I spend on cigarettes. He lets me stay at his house for five days, lets me roll cigarettes with loose tobacco because I can't afford another packet this week. He says, "Do you want to start a business? Two pounds per packet. You get a pound if you help me roll." It sounds borderline illegal, but it's just cigarettes, isn't it? I nod. 

He owns an ATV. It's started snowing but the air is still warm enough that it doesn't lay as a loose powder over the streets, but packs together. The perfect texture for sledding. He ties a sled to the back of his ATV, gives me a helmet. I sit on the sled, he drives. It's the best thing I've ever done in my entire life.

I'm struggling in school. He says that he'll hopefully get a job in another town. The town where I want to go to highschool. He says he'll get a flat, says that maybe we should move in together. One room each, I can cook and do the dishes, and he'll clean and do laundry. He helps me with my homework. He helps me see the end of studying, and gives me something to work towards. A home with my best friend, a school I'll enjoy.

My body doesn't feel like my own. My head says he and him, my body says otherwise. He's the same. My body feels wrong and I want to crawl out of my skin. He knows exactly how it feels. I haven't showered in a week. He tells me to try to shower with the lights off. I don't smell sweaty and my hair isn't greasy anymore.

He loves orange juice. If he could, he'd probably stop eating and only live of off orange juice. I buy him a litre for his birthday, and he grins and laughs. Empty cartons stands around his room, and his fridge is filled with it. I don't like orange juice, but I like apple juice. So I buy the same brand, different fruit. 

He likes to sew his own clothes. Scrap bits of fabric, floss and some free time, and he's patched up a pair of trousers that he decorates with more patches, writes on them, sticks chains and random items onto them. I've never seen anyone sew with floss before, but he does.

He loves dogs. Walks around with dog treats in his pocket in case he runs into a good boy or girl to love for a few moments. 

He loves punk. Listens to it loudly on a Bluetooth speaker and screams along. He dances. I dance and I scream with him and I don't care who watches. When we listen to our song, we stand face to face, jump forward and backwards and scream the lyrics in our faces until we can't breathe. I hear the intro and I slap my thighs in excitement, stand up immediately. "It's our song! Come on!"

I love to ride the bike. He does too. We ride our bikes all over town, listen to our music and feel the wind hit our faces. Mine is pink and purple. Because it's not mine, it's my sister's. His is red, rusty and old. It's his mother's. 

He wears his hair in a mohawk. It's either blue or black, standing straight up, tall and stiff. My hair is green but still boring. He helps me comb it up to liberty spikes. We wear patched trousers with loud chains and soda caps that hit against one another with the tell-tale metallic jangle. People stare and take photos when they think we can't see. We stand up taller, laugh louder.

He feels alone. He's sad, and angry, and alone. It's my turn to act like the drain. So he talks and talks, smokes cigarette after cigarette and I nod as he speaks. Smoke my own cigarette and says that he's valid. What he's feeling is valid.

I move into a group home. My ceiling lamp hangs too low and I'm only 5"4 yet I bump my head against it. He helps me hang it up properly. Jokes and talks about nothing and everything as he hoists it up until I don't bump my head against it anymore.

We make chocolate truffles. Butter and oats and sugar and cocoa powder. A Swedish thing. We cover them in more chocolate and they taste better than anything we've made before.

He hates Christmas. But he buys battery driven fairy lights and sticks them into his mohawk, down to his trousers. He walks around like a goddamn Christmas tree. Because he hates Christmas but other people love it and he wants to make them happy.

He's drunk. It's Christmas Eve and he's so drunk that he has to hold onto the wall to stand upright. I'm on the balcony and he's on the ground and he looks up at me. "I'm so happy," he tells me. "Kevin, I'm so happy. I always want to be like this." I tell him to go home, drink some water and to sleep it off. He goes.

It's New Year's Eve and I'm at my girlfriend's. We drink non-alcoholic wine and cider, kiss when the clock strikes twelve. We're both tired and we go to bed before one in the morning. He calls me, he says that we're going to start a band. Our friend's new partner has a studio and it's one town over but it's okay because we're moving there anyway. "I love you," he tells me. And I tell him, "I love you too."

Our friend texts me the next day. She asks if I had seen him, if I had heard from him. I tell her no. And I send him a text. I hope you're alive, I write, call me. He never does.

Instead it's our friend, the next day. I've just showered and I'm eating breakfast with my girlfriend and her dad. My phone rings. Our friend. My friend. "Axel's dead," she tells me. "They found him in the attic." I scream. I cry. I tell her no. No, he's not dead. It's not true. She's playing a stupid fucking prank with me, she's lying. But when she says that it's true the third time, I believe her. And I break down.

I cry in the car ride home. I make a promise to myself that I'm going to live for the both of us. For three hours, I cry. I listen to music and audiobooks and nothing works to stop the he's dead, he's dead, he's gone. And I cry some more.

I cry when I wake up the next morning because I don't want to wake up in a world without him. 

I stop eating. I stop drinking. I'm nauseous all the time and the ache in my stomach consumes me and I can't eat anything because I am terrified of throwing up.

I cry so much that after three days, I get skin rashes by my eyes from scrubbing my eyes too much. Crying hurts but not crying hurts more. Every breath I take rattles and shakes and I only leave my bedroom to smoke. The staff at the group home tells me to let some light in. I pull my duvet up to my nose.

Axel means shoulder in Swedish. Every time he met someone new, he said, "Hi, my name is Axel and I'm always by your side." He never said that to me. And he never said goodbye, he said "Good luck." 

I get a tattoo. It says good luck on my wrist in his hand writing. And he remains by my side.

[arcanuscaballus]

@agentgem​ tagged me for this!! tysm these are fun

1. What is the colour of your hairbrush? i have like 3 but theyre all black with pink or gold accents 2. Name a food you never eat. capsicum...if u put it in anything i will pick it out 3. Are you typically too warm or too cold? too warm 4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago? i was in class for feminist legal theory 5. What is your favourite candy bar? basically any chocolate bar with raspberries in it i love that shit 6. Have you ever been to a professional sports game? when i was a baby my parents took me to the sydney olympics 7. What is the last thing you’ve said out loud? there was a police helicopter circling my house so i shouted out the window for it to fuck off 8. What is your favourite ice cream? golden gaytime 9. What is the last thing you had to drink? orange juice 10. Do you like your wallet? YES im so proud of it cause its so hard to find a good wallet and i got mine while i was on exchange for a really good price and its perfect 11. What is the last thing you ate? leftover takeaway from last night 12. What’s the last sporting event you watched? i was in the same room as someone watching the football last week but my involvement was limited to ranking the guys based on how bad their haircut is 13. Did you buy new clothes last weekend? yes i got a super cool shirt with bats on it 14. What’s your favourite flavour of popcorn? plain butter usually but i also love caramel 15. Who is the last person you sent a message to? gemma who tagged me in this is talking to me on discord as we speak 16. Ever been camping? yeah! i used to go once a year with some friends when i lived in the states but none of my other trips have ever lived up to that since i left :( 17. Do you take vitamins? no 18. Do you regularly attend a place of worship? nah 19. Do you have a tan? bro i am so pale 20. Do you prefer Chinese or pizza? there you go pitting 2 bad bitches against each other for no reason 21. Do you drink your sodas through straws? i guess if it comes with one 22. What colour socks do you usually wear? black but i have a lot of patterned ones too 23. Do you ever drive above speed limit? i cant drive 24. What terrifies you? failure 25. Look to your left. What do you see? the posters and lights above my beds headboard 26. What chore do you hate the most? laundry because all the medium sized time gaps in it mean you cant totally focus on it or do anything else 27. What do you think when you hear an Australian accent? i speak with one mate 28. What’s your favourite soda? sprite 29. Do you go in a fast food place or hit the drive thru? usually go inside 30. What’s your favourite number? 8 31. Who’s the last person you talked to? my mom to complain about the fucking helicopters 32. Favourite meat? uhhh idk they all really depend on how well theyre prepared 33. Last song you listened to? i think he knows by taylor swift its fun 34. Last book you read? the princess bride novel 35. Favourite day of the week? i really dont have one university is online and i work as a casual so i have no set days for anything 36. Can you say the alphabet backwards? probably 37. How do you like your coffee? does coffee ice cream count 38. Favourite pair of shoes? dark purple docs i got from a thrift store in italy (theyre my only shoes i actually wear) 39. Time you normally get up? between 8 and 9 usually but sometimes 7 or 10 40. Sunrises or sunsets? sunrises 41. How many blankets are on your bed? 1 42. Describe your kitchen plates. mix n match 43. Describe your kitchen at the moment. uhh its on its way to being clean but isnt quite there 44. Do you have a favourite alcoholic drink? not really 45. What colour is your car? i dont have a car 46. Can you change a tire? ive never been taught 47. Your favourite state or province? okay ive only been to like 4 here and one of them is the ACT so im gonna say NSW cause i live there 48. Favourite job you’ve had? the one i have right now is pretty alright because there is always free cake but i had a nice volunteer position at a cat shelter a few years ago which was good because kitties!

anyway ill tag @jaramass @nbeenary @avis-icarus and @cacturne but you can totally ignore that if you dont want to

[artificialqueens]

Not Nineteen Forever (4) (Branjie/Scyvie)- Ortega

a/n: i am absolutely hanging out my arse so editing and re-reading this chapter made me feel vaguely ill. i’ll pass it off as method acting xo thank you so much for the continued love and support for this fic, the fact that each chapter so far has broken 100 notes makes me piss my pants with excitement (watch now i’ve jinkxed it and this one’ll get like 8). in this installment Scarlet finds it hard to believe that she isn’t Victoria Beckham.

Trigger Warnings: explicit drug use, alcohol. unaaay.

Summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree

***

Scarlet had to admit, she was enjoying the high life. As she sat up the back of the lecture theatre in the new fur coat she wasn’t planning on taking off anytime soon, blinking heavily with her £75 lash extensions, drumming her £50 acrylics against her notepad, she smiled to herself. This was definitely the kind of life she was suited to. Okay, she got a bit of a shock when the rent left her bank account, as well as her gas and electricity bills, but she still had a good amount there. Clenching her stomach, Scarlet thought about the number on her banking app. £3713.65. Slightly giddy, she pressed her lips together as she thought about it. How could she have spent over a thousand pounds in the space of two weeks? She thought through it in her mind. Rent, £550. Electricity, £30 split with Ra’Jah. Gas, £25, also split with Ra’Jah. But that only came to what…just under six hundred pounds? There was still so much unaccounted for. Scarlet thought about how much she’d paid for on nights out, the two shopping trips she’d been on since her scratchcard win, and the many, many Ubers she’d taken pretty much everywhere. It was time to reign the spending in.

It was crazy how much confidence it was giving her, though. Even on the group chat Scarlet felt self-assured enough to throw out barbs every so often, the girls all responding with keyboard smashes and capitalised laughter and giving her a boost of serotonin. It had even made her feel more confident around Yvie. Scarlet felt weird about the whole Yvie thing. Now that she’d realised she liked her, she didn’t really know what to do about it. She knew she would do something, she promised herself, as if she ended up in a situation like Vanjie’s she would scream. Scarlet cast a glance to the girl beside her, frantically typing notes into her laptop and listening intently. Bored, Scarlet took her fluffy-topped pen and wrote on her notepad, pushing it Vanjie’s way.

Lunch after this?

She watched as Vanjie looked down at her writing, looked back up, then nodded once. Scarlet smiled, glad that she had something to look forward to. It had been a while since she’d had a catchup with Vanjie, and part of her was excited to see if there had been any progress made between her and Brooke. Scarlet then realised it was a little selfish of her to think that way and, realising she hadn’t confided in anyone about her crush on Yvie yet, she decided she’d let Vanjie in on her secret.

When the lecture finished up they decided they would go for lunch at the Mexican place in town. It was a slightly longer walk than anywhere on campus but Vanjie was good company, chatting away happily about something funny her Mum had done back home and distracting Scarlet from the cold weather. They eventually reached the restaurant and got sat at a table, despite the fact Scarlet could have stood under the heaters that were blasting by the entrance forever. She watched as Vanjie shrugged her huge coat off then leant forward.

“So, how’s your lovely flatmate?” Vanjie asked, Scarlet letting out a snort and rolling her eyes.

“Our oven’s broken. She’s saying I broke it,” she explained, Vanessa tilting her head with intrigue.

“Why? What did you do?”

“I don’t know. Used it to cook food,” Scarlet said, her laugh giving away her monotone voice and causing Vanjie to giggle too. “It’s exhausting living with her! She just hates me for no reason! I swear she’s going to turn up by my bed in the middle of the night with a knife and her pillow to smother me with.”

“But then she’d have no-one to blame for the shit that goes wrong in the flat.”

“True. If I’m ever found murdered, though, you know who it was,” Scarlet raised her eyebrows knowingly, Vanessa having to stop herself from laughing as a waitress arrived at their table and took their drinks orders. Vanessa ordered a Corona and Scarlet almost joined her, then realised that beer on a lunch break when she still had a lecture in the afternoon was risky. She got a blood orange San Pellegrino instead. As the waitress walked away, Scarlet continued. “How’s Silky and Akeria? I’ve not seen them since last Saturday.”

“They’re good. Akeria’s stressing about Masters applications, even though I keep telling her every uni is gonna be fallin’ over themselves to accept her. Silk is fine. She’s always fine. I think she’s made peace with the fact she’s probably going to get a 2:2.”

“Nothing wrong with a 2:2,” Scarlet shrugged, even though she knew that if she was on course for a 2:2 she’d be crying as if her life was over.

“That’s true. Degree’s a degree. Still gon’ cry like a baby if I don’t get a 2:1 though,” Vanessa frowned, brightening up as the waitress returned and put their drinks in front of them.

“You will,” Scarlet said. It hadn’t been a lie- even though she only saw Vanessa working towards part of her PPE degree, she always seemed on the ball with lecture notes, got good grades in her essays, and you could never shut her up in tutorials. The other girl still narrowed her eyes at her as she took a drink.

“You have to say that, though. You’re my friend,” Vanessa said, Scarlet brightening up at the validation of her friendship. She’d never known if Vanessa had liked her at first, but over the years they’d eventually settled into being comfortable with each other. Vanessa sighed. “I worked out that if I want a 2:1 I need to get above 65% in everything until the end of the year.”

“That’s doable!” Scarlet insisted, pouring her can into the glass in front of her. She frowned and shook her head. “Anyway, let’s not worry any more about uni. How’s Brooke Lynn?”

Vanessa slid down in her seat and covered her face with the menu. “I don’t know, bitch, ask her.”

“You know what I mean! How are things going? Any progress?”

Vanessa screwed up her face. “I mean, I don’t know. Kind of? Maybe? It’s so hard to tell with that bitch.”

“What’s the maybe?”

“So last Monday we went for a drink after we went to the library. We were just talkin’ and somehow…I don’t even know how we got onto this topic…we started talkin’ about how we were…y'know, like in bed.”

Scarlet let out a screech. “OH my God. Amazing. How is that a maybe in any way?!”

“Nah, well, you know,” Vanessa smiled bashfully, fanning herself with the menu which neither of them had so much as glanced at. “It started to get deep and then I did my classic ha ha ha what a big joke this is I’m definitely not takin’ this serious in any way thing I always do with her. I think I made it awkward, ‘cuz I’ve not seen her since then. I mean we’ve talked on the chat but…yeah.”

Scarlet pouted, feeling sorry for her friend. “Oh, Vanj, no. It won’t be that at all. You know her and Plastique have got their portfolios due next week, she’ll just be busy!”

Vanessa bit her lip, then smiled slowly. “How about if I organise a lil somethin’ to take her mind off her work, then?”

Scarlet took a sip of her drink. “You’re going to turn up to her flat wearing nothing but a massive bow playing The Stripper through your phone speaker.”

As Vanessa howled, Scarlet realised a little too late that someone had come to take their order. She asked for five more minutes, neither of them having looked at the menu yet and having only used it as a prop for embarrassment.

“No, bitch,” Vanessa wheezed, finally getting her breath back. “Let’s see if we can get her to come out tonight.”

Scarlet felt her brows pulling together involuntarily. “On a Wednesday? She’ll be too responsible.”

Vanessa sighed and gave the menu a cursory glance. “Couldn’t we at least try? I just need to know if I’ve made things awkward so I can go about trying to fix them. Although how the fuck I’d do that, I don’t know.”

“I guess you could put it on the chat?” Scarlet shrugged.

Gleefully, Vanessa bounced about in her chair and grabbed her phone decisively, immediately typing. She put it back face-down on the table almost as quickly as she’d picked it up. “It’s sent. Although now we’re running the risk of everyone being free apart from Brooke Lynn, and if I’m honest I really don’t have the energy to go out otherwise.”

“We’re getting old,” Scarlet shrugged, her eyes scanning over tostadas, taquitos and empanadas without really being able to focus on any of them. “Do you remember the days when you could manage two nights out back to back?”

“I remember the days I could manage two nights out in one night,” Vanessa laughed, running a hand through her hair and exhaling. “Scarlet, why am I nervous? Tell me why I’m nervous.”

“Because you’ve just orchestrated a night out with our whole friendship group just so you can see one member of it. Instead of, you know. Asking her on a date,” Scarlet smiled teasingly, Vanessa laughing in self-depreciation. It occured to Scarlet that she still hadn’t told Vanessa about Yvie. “That reminds me-”

Just then she was cut off as the waitress appeared again at their table. Scarlet couldn’t bear to send her away again so she quickly ordered some fish tacos and some sort of cheesy beany quesadilla she had no idea the other ingredients of. Vanessa rapidly fired off an order for a pulled chicken burrito and pork taquitos which, Scarlet could glean from a quick glance at the menu, seemed to be served with radioactive levels of spice. As the waitress walked away, Scarlet frowned.

“Are those taquitos not really spicy?”

“Meh. I don’t mind spice. Worst case scenario I’ll have to install scaffolding round my ass for the next three days after I eat ‘em,” Vanessa shrugged and then leaned forward, hardly giving time for Scarlet to laugh at what she’d just said. “You said ‘that reminds me’ after we were talkin’ about dates, what’s up with that?”

“Oh uh, nothing,” Scarlet smiled shyly as she picked at a bit of dripped candle wax on the tabletop. “Just that I’m joining you in the crushing-on-my-best-friend club for the foreseeable future.”

Vanessa’s face lit up. “What is this?!”

Scarlet felt cheeks flush red as she said it. “I…think I have a crush on Yvie.”

Vanessa let out a quick screech of delight, drawing the gaze of a dining couple sitting at the opposite side of the room. Hushing herself, she leant close to Scarlet and continued. “Oh my God! Bitch! I love this. This is amazing. Aw, you’d be so cute together! I knew you were touchy with each other but I always thought that was just how your friendship was.”

“It is how our friendship is!” Scarlet protested, then put her head in her hands to cover her cheeks as she smiled. “I just…realised I like being touchy with her a little too much to be friendly.”

“Oh, I got it. You wanna be touchy with her in a different way,” Vanessa winked suggestively, Scarlet squealing in mortification and both the girls ending up howling with laughter. As the laughter died down, Vanessa smiled. “Well, welcome to the world of crushing on a friend, boo. It’s amazing, electric, and largely horrific. And painful. I’m not selling this well.”

“It sounds slightly sadomasochistic.”

“That’s actually what you get if you Google it,” Vanessa nodded faux-seriously, then put on a funny, posh-sounding voice. “If you liked getting shocked by a disused electrical socket twenty-five times in a row, perhaps you’d like: crushing on your best friend!”

Scarlet laughed, then shot a glance down at her phone as it sat face-down on the table. “I’m kinda hoping Yvie comes out tonight too now.”

“Ooh! We should check the chat,” Vanessa said, pouncing on her phone and her face dropping as she looked. Scarlet opened her own to see what had been said.

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: me n Scarlet wanna go out tonight who’s down

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: BITCH ARE U CRAZY WE AINT FRESHERS ANY MORE

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: I GOTTA DATE WITH BRADLEY WALSH AND WHOEVER THE CHASER IS TODAY

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: Girl we all know The Chase starts at 5pm you gotta think of a better excuse

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: Sorry boo I’m out

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: BITCH BACK TO BACK EPS ON CHALLENGE TV FROM 7 THANK U NEXT

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: Need to be at the library early if I wanna get that 1st

Kim Kardashian-West: Placement :((((((( sorry babyyy

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: I’ll see yall at pres though

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: I’m guessing they’re gonna be at ours

Okay Then: Sorry girls our portfolios are due in like 9 days

Okay Then: big celebrations after though!!

Dave the Laugh: i’d actually be down

Scarlet felt guilty as her heart gave a jump, Vanessa sitting dejectedly across from her. “Hey, chin up! She’s not replied yet.”

“If Plastique is sayin’ no, she’ll be a no too,” she jerked her mouth to the side in a pained attempt at a smile. “Your girl’s down though, that’s good!”

“Stop. She’s not my girl.”

“Yet,” Vanessa smiled, a glint of disappointment still present in her eyes. Just then, Scarlet’s phone lit up in her hand.

mose: I’m going to follow the tradition of my entire university career making poor life choices and say yeah I’d be up for a night out

Scarlet looked with anticipation across to Vanessa, whose eyes were wide with excitement. She didn’t seem to know that she had a beaming smile on her face, and Scarlet couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, happy for the girl opposite her. “See? Good news!”

“Oh my God. It’s gonna be me, you, Yvie and Brooke Lynn. Fuckin’ double date night out,” Vanessa’s eyes scrunched up as she laughed happily. Scarlet felt her pulse start racing, nerves taking hold of her already. She was excited, though, for some time with Yvie in a slightly smaller setting. She hadn’t grabbed a coffee or done anything with just her in a while, and even though this wasn’t the ideal setting, it was still an opportunity. Vanessa was back typing quickly into her phone, and Scarlet watched the group chat progress.

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: yall suck apart from Yvie and BrookeLynn

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: come to mine for 9 then bitches! Xoxoxoxo

Mose: See ya then boo

Scarlet turned over her phone and raised an eyebrow at Vanessa. “You’re her boo.”

“Yeah fuck y’all bitches, I’m Brooke Lynn’s lil’ ghost,” she smiled and gave her hands a quick clap together in excitement, Scarlet spluttering a laugh at her friend’s adorable reaction. Just then, their food arrived and got placed down in front of them.

“Oh hey, can I grab another Corona?” Vanessa asked, holding up her empty one. The waitress took it and nodded, and Vanessa gave Scarlet a guilty look. “I should really head to the library after this but I’mma go back home and nap, then spend the next four hours gettin’ ready. Fuck, I don’t even know how I’m gonna afford goin’ out tonight.”

Scarlet took a bite of a taco, then thought. Lunch was only going to come to about forty-ish pounds altogether, and really, what was that out of her winnings? She swallowed, looked to Vanessa, and smiled.  

“Hey. I’ll get us lunch,” she shrugged, shifting a little in her seat as Vanessa blinked at her.

“Serious? No, Scarlet, I can’t let you do that.”

“Honestly! My loan came in early,” she said, looking down at her plate as she lied. “Think of it as a celebratory, double-date-crush-night-out-whatever-the-fuck-this-is treat. And you can buy me a drink or something when we go out, call it even.”

As a waiter came by and placed another bottle in front of Vanessa, she gave a smile and raised it. “To coming out on the other side of tonight with girlfriends?”

Scarlet smiled as she clinked her glass against Vanessa’s beer. “Let’s not push it.”

The rest of her lunch with Vanessa passed by comfortably, Scarlet paying the bill when they were finished without a second thought and the girls saying goodbye with a hug and an excited squeal in anticipation of later on. Part of Scarlet wanted to head straight to the shops to look for something new to wear but she stopped herself, instead getting in an Uber and going back to the flat, the prospect of her returning to campus for her 3pm lecture growing thin. Turning the keys in her front door, she sighed when she heard loud music coming from Ra’Jah’s room. Scarlet had hoped she’d be out by now. Walking through to the living room to dump her shoes, coat and bag, she paused when she saw something on the messy, cluttered coffee table that she was sure hadn’t been there before.

It was a tiny, clear, plastic ziploc bag filled full of a white powder. Scarlet frowned as she picked it up, transferring the bag between her fingers and watching as the powder inside crumbled and broke up, the same sort of consistency as flour although slightly looser and whiter. The realisation of what she was holding suddenly hit her like a bus, nearly making her drop the bag. She stood silent for a couple of minutes, completely unsure of what to do. Then she heard the music in Ra’Jah’s room get turned up and that seemed to make her decision for her.

Storming back through into the hallway, Scarlet banged on her flatmate’s door. “Ra’Jah!”

The music got cut off and there was an eerie buzz of silence in the flat. The door in front of Scarlet swung open to reveal her flatmate, her face unimpressed. “Yes?”

Scarlet held up the bag, hoping it would elicit some emotion out of the other girl. It did not. “Can you not leave that shit lying around our flat?”

Ra’Jah smiled in amusement, showing a set of slightly uneven teeth. Scarlet felt her top lip curl up in a sneer. Ra'Jah wasn’t able to pull them off, not like Yvie with the cute gap she had between her front teeth. Fuck, was she really thinking of Yvie right now? Ra’Jah leant on the doorframe cockily. “What, a girl ain’t never seen cocaine before?”

“Of course I’ve seen it,” Scarlet lied, gripping the bag tight between her fingers. “I just don’t want the flat looking like a fucking crack den. I mean it’s not a potted plant, Ra’Jah, it’s a fucking class A drug. It’s not decorative.”

“Class A, ooh,” Ra’Jah mimicked mockingly, irritation washing over Scarlet. “Don’t shit yourself, bitch, it’s fine. I only put it down for, like, two seconds anyway. Just give it and I’ll put it somewhere safe.”

Scarlet went to pass it back to her, but something held her back. She looked at the powder again and a flash of thoughts flew through her head, of skinny, glamorous models and nightclub toilets and champagne. It was an illegal drug, and everything Scarlet had been brought up to believe told her it was fucking disgusting, and dangerous, and led to a spiral of addiction and debt. But still part of her was so insatiably curious, like she was addicted without even having tried it yet. She watched Ra’Jah’s expression change as Scarlet curled her fingers back. “Where’d you get it?”

“What is this, twenty fuckin’ questions?” her flatmate snapped back, rolling her eyes. “Just give me my narcotics, bitch.”

“Can I, um. I’ll buy it off you?” Scarlet stumbled out, causing Ra’Jah to look at her in disbelief.

“You want to buy cocaine?” she raised an eyebrow at her, speaking through a slight laugh. Scarlet’s hackles were up.

“Or give me the number of your dealer.”

Ra’Jah let out a small snort, shrugging her shoulders. “Ain’t any need to involve anyone else. Alright, that’s a gram. Give me sixty and it’s a deal.”

Scarlet felt her eyes widen involuntarily, Ra’Jah chuckling in response. “Girl, what did you think it was gonna be? Naomi Campbell snorts this shit for a reason, people use rolled up hundred dollar bills to snort this shit for a reason. It ain’t fuckin’ Cabbage Patch kids weed we talkin’ ‘bout here.”

Scarlet frowned and took out her phone, opening up her banking app. Just before she transferred the money, she looked at her flatmate suspiciously. Ra’Jah rolled her eyes.

“Look, I’m not taking you for a ride. I got it for fifty, a bitch wants to make a profit. Sixty is standard in some places. Others you’d be talkin’ seventy. Google it if you don’t believe me.”

“No, I believe you,” Scarlet simply said, hitting a button and just like that, sixty pounds flew out of her account. A nervous heartbeat felt entirely too fast and too loud in her body. Another hundred pounds gone.

“Thanks, bitch. This was great fun, maybe I’ll drop out and become a dealer,” Ra’Jah laughed, Scarlet saying nothing in reply as the door swung shut in her face. The bag seemed to make her right hand tingle, and a surge of nervous excitement shot through Scarlet like propane.

She got ready for the night ahead in a sort of daze, as the panic and the gravity of what she’d actually done began to sink in. She’d just bought a gram of cocaine for a night out. What the hell was she planning on doing with it? There was no way she’d be able to actually do any. Or was there? That was what Scarlet had always said about weed and now her and Yvie got high together all the time. Her pulse thrummed at her wrists when she thought about the other girl. Scarlet imagined bringing the small bag out in a toilet cubicle with her, watching her eyes grow wide, imagined her thinking holy shit, I never knew Scarlet was this type of girl at all. Imagined them both cutting it up with Scarlet’s bank card and snorting it, then hitting their high on the dancefloor, turning to her and letting Yvie lean in and kiss her in a haze of euphoria and lust.

Scarlet felt a throb of heat pulse between her legs, her doubts gone. This was a good decision.

Scarlet showed up to Vanessa’s flat only running a tiny bit late, ready with a bottle of vodka the size of her head and a couple of mixers in case any of the girls wanted to share. She got buzzed in quickly and was welcomed into the flat by Akeria who was looking a far cry from her usually-glamorous self, her hair piled on top of her head in a towel and a pair of pink flannel pyjamas on. Scarlet was shown through to their kitchen where she found Vanessa, Brooke and Yvie all sitting on the sofa or on chairs beside Silky who was also in her pyjamas and, just as she’d promised on the chat, was watching The Chase. The girls gave a small cry of delight as Scarlet walked in, Scarlet not missing the way Vanessa was sat on Brooke Lynn’s lap. Part of her prickled with jealousy, wishing that her and Yvie were in their place, but she didn’t mind too much. She was happy for Vanessa. Scarlet grabbed a glass, took a chair to sit in, and began pouring a drink as the girls continued to watch the TV.

“Low offer of minus four thousand pounds, high offer, please?”

“Fifty-one thousand pounds.”

“We’re watching The Chase,” Vanessa explained to Scarlet.

“I gathered.”

“If he takes the minus offer, I’m gonna reach through the TV and stab him,” Brooke said seriously, her face displeased.

“Nah, he’s gonna stick in the middle. I trust Nigel, 52, from Stockport,” Yvie drawled, taking a sip of her drink then smiling at Scarlet from her position on the chair beside her, reaching across and squeezing her hand. “Hey, girl, how are you?”

“I’m good, thanks,” she smiled shyly, giving Yvie’s hand a small squeeze back and admiring her crushed-velvet red dress. “You look good.”

Yvie momentarily looked as if she was about to say something cute in response when her eyes were suddenly ripped from Scarlet’s and back to the screen as the girls groaned loudly.

“He’s a fucking TRAITOR,” Silky yelled, launching a cushion at the TV. “Sheila brought back forty-five thousand for this asshole to take from it? NO MA’AM!”

“Well this is the most lit pres I’ve ever been to,” Scarlet deadpanned.

“I hate this motherfuckin’ game show. Silk, turn this shit off,” Vanessa rolled her eyes, her flatmate loudly complaining.

“It’s my fuckin’ flat too, hoe!”

“Yeah, some of us actually have to do work tomorrow,” Akeria piped up from her position at the oven, checking on whatever she’d put inside. “How come you’re out tonight anyway?”

Scarlet caught Vanessa’s eye and she just stopped herself from smiling. “Oh, you know. Sometimes you just fancy going out.”

“It’s called being spontaneous, Kiki. You should try it,” Brooke joined in as she brought both hands up around Vanessa’s waist, the other girl giving a happy sigh and Scarlet staring at them, jealousy burning under her skin. As the other girls bickered, Yvie turned to face her again.

“Hey. You alright?” she asked, concern etched on her face and making Scarlet’s heart swell up.

“No, yeah, I’m good!” she smiled, blinking and trying not to come out with the truth of I’m insanely jealous of how close and cuddly Brooke and Vanessa are being right now and I wish Silky would get up off the sofa so we can join them. Satisfied with her answer, Yvie smiled.

“That’s good. No sad allowed at pres,” she joked, then tapped her gently on the nose. “Also you’re not allowed to be upset, you’re, like, my favourite person. Don’t tell the others.”

Scarlet felt something akin to a tidal wave flood over her whole body. Boosted, she gave Yvie a small wink. “I won’t. I promise.”

Something behind Yvie’s eyes seemed taken-aback, but not in a negative way. Almost as if she hadn’t expected Scarlet to come back with something so flirty so quickly, and Scarlet had to hide her smile behind her hand when she saw Yvie’s cheeks turn slightly pink.

Two hours later, all of Scarlet’s vodka had been drank and the four girls had managed to navigate a drunk Uber ride and entry into one of the fanciest clubs in the city. Usually none of them would have been able to afford the entry fee, but Scarlet had paid the ten pounds for each of them without batting an eyelid. She probably should have cared, but Scarlet had hit that stage where the alcohol had her convinced that life was wonderful, she was invincible, and she would be young and rich forever. She laughed as she cast her eye around the small circle the girls had formed on the dancefloor. Vanessa was dancing, frankly, like a stripper, and Brooke seemed to be living for it, her hands on the other girl’s waist protectively. Yvie was bouncing and flailing about, completely intoxicated, and yelling along to whatever song was playing- Scarlet didn’t know it, but she didn’t really need to. Turning to Yvie, she grabbed her hands and laughed. Yvie looked at her curiously.

“You look like those things…those car lot things…they go like this in the wind,” Scarlet explained, suddenly demonstrating to Yvie and throwing her hands in the air. Yvie buckled over with laughter, her hands on her knees, and Scarlet was so pleased she’d made her laugh.

“Bitch you started doing the floss to Miami 2 Ibiza, shut the fuck up,” Yvie snorted, Scarlet howling beside her. Casting her eye again to Brooke and Vanjie, an idea planted itself in Scarlet’s head.

“Yvie, watch me dance like Vanessa,” she commanded, suddenly feeling emboldened enough to throw her arms around Yvie’s neck and push her body up against hers. She ran her hands through the other girl’s hair messily, Yvie’s eyes half-lidded as she laughed gently at her.

“Girl…messing up my hair,” she muttered, Scarlet smiling back brazenly.

“It was messed up when you did it,” she smiled cheekily, tapping Yvie on the nose like she’d done to her earlier. Without giving her a chance to respond, Scarlet dropped down onto the floor in a move she hoped would make her look irresistible. Instead, she toppled over and ended up flat on her back against the sticky floor, the crowd parting around her like the Red Sea. She looked up to see Yvie laughing hysterically, holding both her hands out to her. Scarlet took them gratefully and she was pulled up, beside Yvie again only this time with just a fraction of the confidence. Yvie must have seen her pouting as Scarlet felt her strong arms being wrapped around her in a hug.

“Aw baby, I like your dancing the way it is,” she slurred into her ear, a tingle shooting down Scarlet’s spine at the proximity of Yvie’s lips to her skin. Scarlet was about to do something, say something, when she suddenly felt herself being wrenched away from Yvie and dancing beside Vanessa, who was gripping her arm. Scarlet was confused until Vanessa leaned in close to her and yelled above the music.

“I got an idea,” she said, her voice thick with alcohol. “Gonna make them both jealous.”

Scarlet’s eyes widened, an electric shock running through her veins as Vanessa pulled her close, then tilted her head up and kissed her. There was little to no hesitation and Scarlet felt herself kissing back, feeling the eyes of the other girls on them both. Vanessa kissed as if she’d known Scarlet’s lips her whole life, hot and passionate, and it briefly ran through Scarlet’s mind that Vanessa probably had a certain Canadian blonde on her mind as she was doing it. She desperately wanted to open her eyes, to look over to Yvie to see if she even cared. Show over, Vanessa pulled away, beaming and laughing, and Scarlet felt herself laugh back. In her drunk state, the situation was funny- the pair of them getting with each other to try to make their two other friends jealous. It appeared to have worked, certainly in Scarlet’s case, as Yvie took her hand and pulled her back, an odd sort of smile on her face that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She shouted over the music at Scarlet, something that she couldn’t quite hear.

“What?”

Yvie raised her voice a little more. “I didn’t know you liked Vanessa like that!”

Scarlet laughed. “I don’t!”

Yvie gave her a funny look, a multitude of questions no doubt running around her head. Scarlet felt her confidence peak and she leaned in close to Yvie’s ear, Yvie’s arms snaking round her waist instinctively. “You jealous, girl?”

She felt Yvie’s body shake in a laugh Scarlet could tell was affected. “No…bitch.”

Scarlet leant her head on her shoulder and spoke against her neck. “Hey, 'f you’re lucky it might be you next time.”

She pressed a tiny kiss against Yvie’s skin and pulled away laughing, Yvie looking momentarily shaken then joining in with Scarlet’s laughter. Scarlet ran her tongue over her teeth. Fucking yes. Suddenly, she remembered the tiny bag she had in her bra. She caught the attention of the other girls and shouted over the music again. “Guys. Come pee with me.”

She began to make her way through the crowd to the toilets, hearing Vanessa and Yvie laugh at Brooke singing a parody of Come Fly With Me but replacing the word “fly” with “pee”. They eventually all managed to cram into a cubicle together, Scarlet counting her blessings that there was no toilet attendant on duty who would almost definitely have bundled them all out. The girls looked shocked as Scarlet turned around from locking the door and produced the bag from her bra.

“Is anyone down?” she asked lightly, Brooke letting out a nervous laugh beside her. Vanessa flipped her hair over her shoulder.

“What the fuck is that,” Yvie asked, her face set in a hesitant, concerned smile. Scarlet shrugged.

“It’s exactly what it looks like.”

Vanessa spoke first with a blase shrug. “Yeah, bitch, let’s do it.”

Scarlet smiled happily, part of her quite surprised at how readily Vanessa agreed to the whole thing. Her eyes darted to Yvie, who was still looking at the bag cautiously. Obviously noticing her eyes on her, Yvie gave her a look that Scarlet couldn’t quite decipher, then screwed her face up. “So this is a thing we all do now?”

Vanessa narrowed her eyes at her. “Aw Jesus, Yvie, it’s one key in a club on a night out, we’re not all about to turn into fuckin’ junkies.”

Scarlet’s confidence had been given a knock. She hesitantly caught Yvie’s eye. “I mean, you don’t have to, I just thought-”

“No, girl, I’ll do some. ’M not a fucking pussy,” she frowned, taking a breath that seemed to be shaky and turning to Brooke, who was still looking with wide eyes at Scarlet. “Brooke, you doing this?”

It occurred to Scarlet that this was the first time she’d ever seen Brooke look anything other than completely sure of herself. She was laughing awkwardly, almost nervously. Scarlet watched as Vanessa put a gentle hand on her arm. “You don’t have to, baby.”

“No, well, y'know me. Try anything once,” she slurred, leaning into Vanessa’s touch. “Okay, fuck, let’s do this shit.”

Scarlet moved to empty the bag out onto the toilet cistern, but Vanessa put out a hand to stop her. “Woah, girl, the fuck you doin’? Just take a key, ain’t no need for all that fuckin’ credit card shit.”

Scarlet frowned at her, confused in her drunken state. “Keys?”

Vanessa seemed to shrink back into herself as she saw all three girls looking at her intently, wondering how she knew so much about the process. Wordlessly, she gestured for the baggie and produced her keys from her gold clutch bag. She calmly opened the small plastic bag and fished into it with a single key, balancing some of the powder on the length of it. With a short glance up at the girls, she pressed a finger to one nostril and gave a quick, harsh sniff with the other. As quickly as it had appeared, the cocaine was gone. Vanessa rubbed quickly at her nose, sniffing awkwardly.

“Alright, who’s next?” she questioned. Scarlet could feel Yvie’s eyes on her.

“Well since Scarlet brought it, she should go next,” she said, something off to her tone and her stare that Scarlet couldn’t quite pinpoint. Scarlet shrugged stiffly, Vanessa reaching back into the bag with the key and holding some out for her. The butterflies in her stomach almost overwhelming, Scarlet leaned forward and mimicked what Vanessa had done. The first thing that she felt was the all-encompassing smell of petrol, followed by a horrific stinging at the back of her nose and mouth, Scarlet briefly being reminded of jumping into swimming pools when she was little and water shooting up her nose. She gave a cough and a big, follow-up sniff, Vanessa chuckling lightly.

Well, that just happened.

Nervously thrilled, Scarlet felt the butterflies in her stomach dissipate as she watched Vanessa hold a key out to Yvie. Yvie frowned and shook her head.

“Nah. Changed my mind. I’m out,” she said darkly, shooting Scarlet a glare that made her feel like a reprimanded child.

“Come on, Yvie, it’s fine,” Scarlet offered, the other girl scrunching up her face.

“No. It’s not happening. You guys have fun.”

Scarlet felt dejected. She wished she knew what she’d done wrong. Trying to push her feelings aside, Scarlet watched as Vanessa turned the key to Brooke. Brooke was looking from the key to the lock of the toilet stall, nervous. Vanessa reached up and touched a lock of her hair.

“You don’t have to, Brooky.”

“No, I will, I will. I’m just nervous. And excited,” she stammered out, Scarlet thinking she couldn’t have judged the girls’ reaction to this entire situation less accurately if she’d tried.

“You can rub it on your gums if you don’t wanna snort it,” Vanessa explained, part of Scarlet wishing she’d told her that before her turn. Brooke tilted her head, considering, then wet her finger, reached into the bag and took some. Then she put her finger back in her mouth and maneuvered it around, her eyes on Vanessa.

“You tryna flirt, boo?” the other girl questioned, her eyes half-lidded as she locked eyes with her.

Brooke let out a laugh. “Bitch I’m trying to take fucking drugs!”

Vanessa, Brooke and Scarlet burst out laughing, Yvie shushing them.

“Right, let’s go, junkies,” she said irritably. Scarlet frowned, sad that she seemed to have upset Yvie in some way. An idea came to her as they left the cubicle and wandered past the judgemental line of waiting girls.

“I’m gonna get us a bottle of champagne,” Scarlet decided, sure for a second that she saw Yvie roll her eyes, but she wasn’t too sure.

“Vanjie, does it look obvious we’ve been doing drugs?” Scarlet heard Brooke yell over the music, Vanessa laughing gently.

“Everyone here is on drugs, baby. Just chill. It’ll kick in in a minute,” she winked, taking both of Brooke’s hands and jumping a little on the dancefloor.

Scarlet watched as Brooke’s eyes darted to a security camera on the ceiling. “Guys. They can see us. They know.”

“Brooke, relax, nobody gives a shit,” Yvie rolled her eyes. Brooke turned to Scarlet, panic filling her eyes.

“Scarlet, what was in that? Is it all okay, yeah? It’s not got anything through it?”

“Oh, good. Well done, bitch, are you seeing this?” Yvie glared at Scarlet before she had a chance to reply to Brooke. “Brooke! It’s fine! You’re okay!”

The music seemed as if it had been turned up louder. Scarlet scrunched her eyes closed. “Brooke, it’s fine, okay? I’m going to the bar, who wants something?”

“Ugh, of course you are,” she thought she heard Yvie mutter. Suddenly irritated, Scarlet whipped around to face her.

“And what is that meant to mean, huh?” she snapped, Yvie’s eyes widening a little at being challenged.

“You, bitch! What the fuck is up with you these days?”

“Nothing’s up with me? What is this?!” Scarlet cried, a couple of heads turning their way then slowly turning back. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest as if she’d just drank fifty Red Bulls back to back, although she was unable to tell if this was the effect of the drugs or just how annoyed she was.

“Something’s off with you. Fucking…cocaine, champagne, this constant…buying everything for everyone like we’re all charity cases, behaving like you’re a fucking extra off Gossip Girl? This isn’t you, Scarlet!” Yvie yelled back, suddenly grasping her by the wrists and giving her a shake. “The normal Scarlet would have shit herself at the thought of doing a key, the normal Scarlet would want to go to Levels and pay a pound for entry instead of going here to dance around with a bunch of fucking Love Island rejects!”

Yvie’s words stung harshly at Scarlet’s heart. She knew the other girl could sometimes grow argumentative when she was drunk, but Scarlet had never had it directed at her. It wasn’t nice. Scarlet felt her tone switch a little as she spoke. “Yvie, you’re being kind of a dick.”

Yvie gave a laugh of disbelief. “Well breaking fucking news, Scarlet! So are you! I mean do you have any idea how shitty it is to see your best friend grow into a total asshole over the space of two weeks?”

“Guys,” Vanessa suddenly interrupted out of nowhere, and Scarlet had no idea how long they’d been fighting or at what volume. “Me and Brooke are gonna go. She’s not doing well.”

Yvie looked at Vanessa, panicked. She cast Scarlet one last withering look before dashing through the crowd, presumably to pick up their jackets. Scarlet felt a bubble of upset prick at her throat. She turned to Vanessa instead. “What’s happened?”

“She thinks she’s having a heart attack. I mean, she’s not, it’s just the drugs, but I’m still worried about her,” she frowned, biting her lip. Vanessa jerked a thumb back to where Yvie had slinked off. “The fuck was that all about?”

Scarlet shook her head silently, not trusting herself to speak unless she began to cry. She didn’t understand how she’d managed to fuck everything up so badly. Vanessa saw her upset and pulled her in for a quick hug.

“Baby. Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”

The four of them got their coats and joined the taxi queue in a blur. Yvie wouldn’t even look her way, and Scarlet didn’t trust herself to try to speak to her in case she managed to make things even worse. She seemed more concerned about Brooke anyway, who was chattering away, her teeth clicking together in the cold night air.

“Is the taxi driver going to know? Will he just drive us to the police station and hand us in? Do you think he’ll phone the police? What if the police were to just come here right now and say they’re giving random drug tests to everyone in the line? What if-”

“Oh my God, what if you shut the fuck up?” Yvie snapped, Brooke looking taken-aback. Vanessa wrapped her arms around Brooke’s waist protectively.

“Brooky. It’s alright. The police aren’t coming, the taxi driver isn’t gonna turn us in. We’re going back to your flat and we’ll get you into bed safe. You’ve got us, nothing’s gonna happen to you.”

Brooke let out a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a sob. She buried her face in Vanessa’s hair. “I love you, V’nessa.”

Scarlet saw something shut down behind Vanessa’s eyes as she squeezed Brooke tightly. “I love you too, baby.”

Scarlet couldn’t stop herself from casting her eyes across to Yvie, selfishly longing. If she hadn’t fucked everything up, maybe something could have happened. Now, though, it looked as if she’d have to piece their friendship back together, never mind anything more.

The line moved up, and they found themselves at the front. Brooke and Vanessa spilled in, then Yvie. Scarlet went to join them when she found the door getting pulled across in her face. Yvie scowled at her. “No. You’re not getting in with us. I don’t even want to speak to you right now.”

Scarlet could hear Vanessa protesting. “Yvie, for fuck’s sake-”

“You’re not coming with us, bitch. Make your own damn way home,” she reiterated, slamming the door shut.

As the taxi sped away, Scarlet couldn’t fix the slack-jawed look of complete hurt she could feel on her face. As the reality of what had just happened sank in, she felt her face crumple like a paper bag as she began to cry, stood on her own at the taxi rank in the small hours of the morning, and all she could do was wait.

[theloobrush]

Respect Culture

I have worked with many socially excluded and marginalized groups. I have also seen the dark and unpleasant underbelly of a nation encountering the reality of homelessness, addiction, crime and prostitution.. I am not a professional social scientist but these are my ‘layman’s’ conclusions about the culture at the bottom of society.

1. The majority of the chronically street homeless (i.e. those who are homeless for more than a few weeks or months) suffer from severe mental health and/or addictions. In all the cases I have encountered there was some degree of mental ill health and addictive behaviour prior to homelessness though rough sleeping usually worsens these afflictions. A very substantial number of the chronically homeless have had social housing (in some cases multiple tenancies as well as private lets) but these have not be sustainable due to the tenant’s behaviour. Frequently the accommodation is lost due to persistent non payment of rent, anti-social activities or  prolonged periods in custody. Family and spousal estrangement is also a significant factor.

2. Drug addiction (in contrast with alcohol addiction) is social. No one is a drug addict on their own without a network of people who encourage and feed the habit. Drug addicts form almost exclusive social groups with other addicts, or addiction is mutually supported within couples.  They are often bound together only by the rituals of obtaining and using drugs, exchanging drugs and drug information, and especially the lending of money to each other. It is very difficult for individuals to break free from the social aspect of drug taking.  The rehabilitated person often begins with loss,  friendless and either treated with suspicion by their former associates or constantly badgered to re-start their habit. Chronic addiction results in alienation from all normative family relationships, very low engagement with social institutions including those designed for leisure and education, and  little to no interest in current affairs.

3. Most addicts are also petty occasional dealers within their small circles.. To sustain their habits and due to debt obligations accrued to their own drug suppliers, individuals will become runners to supply drugs for friends; some will seek to earn future ‘credit’ or make a profit on these deals. 

4. Where voluntary organisations provide  regular food or other useful donations with no strings attached, the addicts will tend to cease to purchase essential items and spend more money on their addictions. Street homelessness is sustained by organisations that claim to want to remove people from the street. Established charities have a very different approach and help is almost never entirely unconditional..

5.. Marginalised groups are most likely to emphasise their wish and need for  ‘respect’. These individuals have no job or only occasional casual work. They are often under educated; in many case they failed or were excluded from school; their addictions consumed their early adulthood. They may have no developed skills or work experience, there is substantial emotional retardation as drug habits and the escape from reality they provide disrupts the maturing process of gaining greater responsibility for one’s own life. 

In  any event prolific offending behaviour to feed their habit has also made it very difficult for them to find employment. They have next to no financial resources except those obtained through welfare benefits, begging and criminal activity. Relative to most of society they lack any well regarded social status or significance, and they know their degradation either consciously or unconsciously.

Many of the men, and some women in this seemingly hopeless position, will take offence at the slightest perceived insult or criticism and the mildest obstruction to their immediate wishes. Any hint of disdain or dislike toward them is often met with exaggerated hostility. An expression of fear or nervousness in response to this hostility is in turn met with behaviour that is designed to denigrate or shame the other person, to ‘bring them down’.

There is an expectation that they will be treated like everyone else even if their behaviour is unreasonable. They do not like any reference being made to  any wrong doing, mental health, addiction problems or general situation unless this is volunteered; welfare benefits are described as ‘pay’ and discussed as if they are a right they have ‘earned’. Much of the time, outside of private discussions with those they trust, they reject any personal responsibility for their failures and they are extremely sensitive to anyone ‘judging them’. Most have a deeply ingrained sense of victimhood and corresponding sense of entitlement despite or because of their extreme dependence on the largesse of the state.

They do not accept that respect is something to be ‘earned’. Outwardly they express behaviour that is suggestive of substantial personal pride and even excessive, almost narcissistic self regard. Though they have next to no other belongings and poor diets, the majority will ensure they have clean faces, well cut hair and wear some fashionable clothes and trainers. At first glance many do not appear ‘poor’ by their dress, and not all are shabby.  Another expression of pride is through exaggerated claims about their great love for their extended families - often quite at odds with their actual negative and strained relations. Family connections are emphasised, whether or not any strong interpersonal relationship exists. 

The negative aspect of this respect culture is they  may also go out of their way to cultivate fear in others by verbal and sometimes physical violence and intimidation. This culture also leads to bullying of individuals who are perceived as  'weaker' personalities and especially those who are less physically strong. Many are openly hostile and loudly abusive toward individuals from other ethnic and sexual minorities. There is a very strong tendency to scapegoat minorities for their own problems 

Most readily understand their legal rights. They readily expect the police services to come to their aid when they have been faulted though they are involved in considerable criminal activity and will tell you how much they hate the police and how corrupt they are. They are strong believers in contractual obligations. 

6. Individuals in their immediate circle who are interested in learning, in study or in bettering themselves in anyway are routinely subjected to derision and rejection, intimidation and bullying. 

7. Some will use crude graffiti employing their own  names, nicknames and 'tags'. This mabe be a way for these individuals to feel they can psychologically dominate their environment, assert their 'territory' and so artificially give themselves social significance.

Discussion

What is happening here?  Here is a group that actively opposes society's standards of 'respect'  and the various value hierarchies against which they would ordinarily be judged. Young males from this background are often intensely anti-education, as well as anti-authority in all its forms. They often seem inexplicably and unnecessarily aggressive to anyone with enhanced power or status including 'helping' professionals (at other times they will appear excessively craven to service providers as long as they have an expectation that their immediate needs may be met.)

From  occasional but revealing private conversations, I know that marginalised, and badly educated men in particular tend to have rock bottom feelings of self worth, lacking as they do social capital and  any prospect of economic standing. They have internalised their poor social status but this has not motivated them to improve themselves. This behaviour  is not limited to those with a poor upbringing, if their successful progress into full adult life has been thwarted (most often as a consequence of their own behaviour) 

What we are seeing are habitual  behaviours  with the only instrumental means of expression open to them being employed: their emotions, speech, general physicality and personal presentation. I believe marginalised individuals develop a social mask or persona projecting strength  with the appearance of dominance, courage and fortitude in stark contrast to their social reality. This seems to be a psychological survival tactic in the more self aware individuals to avoid torpor and permanent depression. These individuals can seem  hostile to anyone or anything that reminds them of their personal failure. . They will frequently engage in forms of posturing and social intimidation.  

It is more than probable that their addictions to certain substances meet  deep personal needs by obliterating feeling of low self worth and internalised inferiority. The chosen drugs do one of two things: they either relax and soothe or boost feelings of strength and confidence. 

Conclusion.

Respect Culture is the pervasive phenomena among marginalised groups, especially young men, where in  response to an internalized sense of inferiority, and  social rejection, the individual projects a protective facade of social dominance. This in turn is experienced by the rest of the society as hostility and aggression resulting in further marginalisation in a vicious downward spiral. 

[inkskinned]

literally just a dumb unorganized list of school tips

source: im a grad student. i’ve had a lot of school. also i’m adhd & mentally ill and require +8 organization. this is mostly directed @ college students, but maybe high school students can use it too, fuck, idk, it’s been forever since i was stuck in that hell hole

just say “professor” either ur using the correct title for a person (will make them feel good) or you’re giving them a bigger title on the assumption they deserve it (which will make them feel good) and also prevents having to ever i mean ever use their names

talk at least 1 time a week in each class, aim for 1 time a day. even lecture classes. i fucking hate talking in front of more than 5 people, so what i would do is prepare a question about the hw/etc (even if i didn’t need it answered) to ask the professor after class so they saw me and got used to me and saw i was invested in their class. about 89% of teachers - if they see you try, they will pass you. i mean it’s literally that easy. i know people who went from like a c- but because they legit tried, their grade got bumped up to a b-. 

if u have to bring a laptop, pre-download the required material/screenshot it, and then turn off your wifi. it’s too easy to not listen.

physical writing will always give you more information recall over typing.

nobody cares about stupid shit anymore trust me they don’t remember that you were accidentally locked in a towel out of your room bc they have their own dumb shit that happened.... in college all the “cringe culture” turns into “god i wish that were me” culture ... wear ur onesie to a party trust me you make +800 friends and 799 of them will be girls telling you you’re adorable and they’d die for you

about locking urself out.... if ur like me and can breeze past post-it notes placed in obvious areas, don’t be a dumb bitch and rely on post-it-notes. while most schools offer 1 free lockout, dont rely on it - it once took 2 hours before someone could get to me. i was in a towel, which meant no phone. so like. anyway, what i do now is i put something on the handle of the door i have to open/unlock. i can’t just open the door w/out the thing falling down and making a loud “you dumb bitch unlock the door before u shower” sound. 

this works for all important don’t-forget it things. other obstacles i’ve used to remind myself to do something include: putting a chair with my wholeass posterboard in front of the door, an entire printer with a single piece of paper that just read “for the love of god check to be sure you have that essay”, and a recycling bin i kept forgetting to empty. guess what bitch finally emptied the bin once it was between me and a swift exit!

no offense and like the whole “it’s the best years of your life!” thing is great but in reality everything goes better scholastically when you treat it as “i came here to win, not to make friends.” i still did make friends, went to parties every weekend, was popular enough i’d be invited to several on one night - but i came there to win. when i put my scholastic life and my mental health first, i went from a 2.0 to a 3.98. yes you can, bitch.

you’re spending the money. don’t squander it. trust me when i say i know plenty of people who breeze through, bc you often can. but like. don’t. challenge yourself bc like. talk about an investment.

if you hate your major, change it. don’t make your life something you can’t stand. on that note, do NOT agree 100% to a track until you have at least some experience in the field. i cannot tell u how many ppl i know who got their whole masters/phd program done, walked into their new profession, and were like, Oh Fuck, I Can’t Live Like This.

college literally offers so many free things and if you’re not taking advantage of them whenever possible i get it but like. try to take advantage of them. this is everything from your gym (which probably has free classes dude) to clubs to like. sober events. these sober events are so ... fuckin good dude i’ve made mason jars with little plants in em... bee aviaries... candles.... go to the free stuff

oh ps on free stuff i wanna say about 4 of 5 days there’s free food on campus just look for things like job fairs, presentations, or discussion groups. also while you’re there at the job fair like. u know, go to the job fair in earnest

i took off 2 years to work and also to just. recover from my bullshit. and it took me 6 years and 3 schools to get my bachelor’s. it wasn’t easy but bitch i lived. there’s no such thing as “too long” to graduate if that’s truly what you want to do.

if on the meal plan, eat as clean as you can the first week. then introduce each part of the cafeteria’s possibly-food-poisoning-creating foods one at a time. give @ least 2 days between each experiment so you know for sure if you get sick what caused it. i literally never eat meat at school but you can still get sick off of unwashed lettuce/salad dressing that hasn’t been refrigerated properly/weirdass things you won’t even think of. this prevents like. dying in a public bathroom.

white loaf bread can be gross & boring. discount bakery section for your slightly chewy artisianal bread needs. if overstale, either toast it or dunk it into water and microwave it (unless u got an oven. use the oven if u can)

steal as many apples from the dining hall/events/etc as physically possible just do it they keep FOREVER and @ some point you’ll be like. fUCK i need a nutrition. ps if you’re keeping them in ur backpack (i wouldn’t keep more than 2) make sure to wrap w/a few paper towels so if you drop your bag you don’t get apple mush

write it all down bitch. “i’ll remember it” no you won’t. unless you are capable of remembering every idea on this list and in order, you won’t remember it. in general, if you write something 3 times, you will recall it correctly at least 80% of the time. i also read it out loud to myself, bc, you know, auditory recall

DO NOT just put your assignment at the top of your notes, unless you’re 100% sure that will work for you. in most cases, it’s much better to have a planner/agenda/place you expect to look for assignments. +7 points if you lie to yourself about deadlines and move them all up.

like not to sound too much like a DARE ad but like. if you don’t like it/don’t want it, don’t fuckin do it. the idea that “there’s nothing to do if you don’t party” is such bullshit. like i promise if you’re like “i am a grouch and want to stay in and binge netflix” about 45 ppl will show up in pjs like “bitch fullscreen it, im a grouch too.” there’s also like. the chance to just.... not overindulge. on wednesdays i have “wine wednesdays” where we sit around and drink a glass of wine while we do our hw. it’s chill and friendly instead of like. drink until u vomit. don’t feel like you either gotta slam the breaks or the gas pedal, is what i mean.

PLEASE know the signs of alcohol poisoning/overdose. most schools have a “Safety Always Matters Most” policy, which means that you can call for help w/out getting into trouble. if you think someone is in danger, act. this also goes for making sure ppl get home safe even if they’re just incapacitated, not poisoned. step in, dudes.

also just. notice when ur starting to rely on stuff too much. i’m super easily addicted to things, so i keep a healthy distance from liquor. i don’t let myself “drink to feel better” bc that’s a scary, scary thing to link to feeling better. if you or somebody u know starts drinking all the time/gets anxious if they don’t drink/drinks in the daytime .... get help. schools have counselling services for a reason.

you’re gonna get a cold/flu of some sort in the first 2 months just brace for it. in the meantime, drink vitamin c, try not to touch too many handles, and when people say “there’s something going around” believe them.

watch kaplan nike just do it 

if you can teach it, you know the material. a super good way of knowing if you studied the right way is to try and teach the material to a stuffed animal/imaginary class.

“i don’t know how to study” bitch me too the fuck. this is usually bc we’ve been taught that studying is just sitting down and staring @ ur notes. it’s not. it’s different for everyone, and you need to understand it’s 99% preventative care. if you don’t go to the class or do the homework, studying is going to fucking suck, bc you’re learning the material all at once for the first time. the place you should consider “studying” is “i’m confident in 70-90% of the material, but need to review.” do not let yourself fall behind .... just go to office hours and ask questions if ur not getting something. studying should feel like you’re remembering what you already knew but kinda forgot, not like you’ve been blindsided.

the whole “writing it down in ur own words” while u have been told this 700 times it really helps bc it means u gotta translate it through your own understanding. if you can’t, and it’s not bc the material seems too obvious to you to state in another way - ask yourself if you don’t understand the material. chances are u are missing a bit of info.

i know it’s like A Thing that Some People do but i never had the mental health points for it but i know some people just take 15 minutes after every class to review their notes. since i’m 100% early to every class ever, obnoxiously so, i try to do it before class. having the last class’s notes up in my head super helps. like. put down the phone i know you’re socially anxious me too but review those notes. chances are if u start flipping through pages other ppl will too. this is also fun bc as soon as you start this whole thing, at least one person will be like “is there a test?” no bitch there’s no test but im gonna be ready when there is!

literally so much of success is fucking posturing i could link about 800 peer-edited studies that show that when a student is expected to do well (and knows they are), they do well. like i literally didn’t change my appearance at all, never bothered to look nice (once winter hits i wear 67 layers all the time), but when i showed up after my 2 years off from school, i presented myself with the whole “i came here to win” vibe and people... really respected me? i mean in hs i remember ppl saying shit like “yeah, well, you aren’t gonna have the homework”. by the time i was in college i had an honest-to-god conversation which included someone being like “so tell me what you’re overachieving at right now” like they just expected it from me. wild.

i live by “bite off more than you can chew, and then CHEW IT” but it’s probably unhealthy. the truth is that i have a lot of energy all the time (lmao adhd!!!) and i used to get told i was “trying too hard” and for a long time (still???) i didn’t (i don’t?) know what that was, you know, bc i had a D average, clearly i wasn’t trying. it turns out i was just. putting all my energy into stuff that wasn’t making me happy like toxic friendships etc. when i decided “nope, all this energy is for me and my schoolwork”..... uhhhhh suddenly i was a golden child and everyone praised my try-hardness ... it’s a fuckt up system tbh

take at least 1 class just for fun. i try to do that every semester. it helps break up all the requirements. if you’re like an engineer and got no time or credits left to spend, try to audit your fun course.

make ur advisor love you i don’t care what it takes make them cupcakes show up to thank them i dONT CARE just do it 

the library isn’t always the best place. if i start getting anxious bc i pavlovian train myself that library=work, i find a new place to go to do hw. try to go outside if you can!!! not like where i live bc like it’s snow all the time but try. a little green really really really helps depression. 

if you’ve been in the same “Studying” place for 1 hour and haven’t done anything the chances are Something Isn’t Right. first, look @ ur body. are you not focusing bc of some pressing physical need? sometimes just taking a shower and coming back helps. are you uncomfy? are you too comfy and going to sleep? if body okay, look @ the material. do you not understand it? do you just need to switch to a new topic for a little bit? can you find a youtube video that will help you better understand it? make notes on what you don’t get so you can ask in the next class. if it’s not the material, it’s not ur bod, check the Actual Space. sometimes just getting up, going for a short walk to a new place, and trying it there actually? really works? if none of this is working.... try ur brain next. hardest to reset bc like, what, turn it on and off again? i use things like caffeine, a short workout, a nap, or a podcast all to just... give me a little boost. 

don’t be afraid to leave. i mean this about class, friend groups, and the college ur at. just get up on outta there if ur not feelin it. i cannot recommend “drop the class” enough. even if it’s a required course see if u can switch the times if u hate the professor day 3 it’s not gonna get better just get the fuCK out

don’t nap in the same position u go to sleep in, nap upside down w/ur head away from ur pillow. don’t ask me why but it works to 1. fall asleep faster 2. make sure u sleep okay at night and 3. wake up less annoyed 

on that note don’t ever do anything in ur bed in a sleeping position unless it’s genuinely sleeping in it. body will get confused. just sit up, lazybones.

when/if the library has those therapy dogs during finals week.... just go pet them make the time for it

ask before hugging people, but don’t expect a “yes”

get a backpack that fits and doesn’t hurt ur back u fuckin hippie idc how cool it is to wear ur backpack super low just don’t do it it’s not worth it

the tutoring center is a fucking goldmine.... free essay edits my dudes

bring a fan dorms are always hotter than u expect

switch dorms if u can if u realize ur in the wrong room/wrong roomate like just don’t bother with nonsense

when in doubt, follow preschool rules. tell ppl when they did something cool, just ask when u need help, and be confident even in your mistakes, because at least u tried

[lotustories]

Sincerely, Yours

Lie To Me Sequel

Pairing: yoongi x f. Reader

Type: fluff, smut

Warning: mentions of alcohol use, sex and vulgar language

Chapter navigation

Chapter 9

“baby, what is this?” Yoongi reading a piece of paper he found by his bedside. “places to take Yoongi in japan.” He giggles at the tittle. You jerking your head away from the suitcase as you tried to get it. “No, it’s a surprise!” You climbed on the bed to take it away but he held it away. “Cat Island,” Yoongi gave a small snort. “Why are we going to cat island?” You sat on top of him, his free hand gripping your ass. “Because I like cats,” you shrugged. “And you’re basically a cat.” You fake clawed the air and he laughed. “Anata no warehouse?” He put the paper down and placed his other hand on you. You grinded your hips a little and he squirmed while waiting for you to answer. “It’s like an arcade,” you leaned down and his eyes focused on your lips. You opened your mouth to speak but he pulled you down and pressed his lips to yours. “I missed you so fucking much.” Yoongi pulling your lip in between his teeth. A small moan escaping your lips. You took his hands in yours and moved them from your ass to your breast, squeezing his hands so he cupped them. Your hips grinding against him, feeling his dick harden beneath you. “I missed your touch,” your grinding slowing down. “anywhere specific?” His hands still massaging your breast, your smirk grew and you grabbed one of his hands. You moved it to lower, yoongi’s thumb rubbing your clit as he moved his free hand to bring you down to kiss him. Your hands cupping his face, your nails slightly clawing at his jaw. “you are mine.” Yoongi growled against your lips, his tongue teasing against your lips. “always.” Your breath bitching. A knock on the door disrupting the heated session. You both grunted as you pulled away, your chests heaving as a awkward jungkook entered the room. “I made dinner,” He chirped and then stuttered when he realized what he walked into. “oh-oh,” he groaned, looking away from Yoongi. “I’m sorry,” Yoongi pulling his pants out to adjust himself. “it’s fine, we’ll be out right now.” When jungkook left, Yoongi turned to you. A small smile on his lips, he reached his hand over and laced his with yours. “hold that, we’ll continue after I eat.” You trailed your hand along his dick and he laughed softly, following after you.

In the kitchen all the boys were chattering as they reached over one another to grab food. You pulled your phone out to snap a quick photo, the flash going off and all boys freezing like deer in headlights. “oh.” Your tiny shocked voice making them furrow their brows. “stop it,” Jimin whined with a mouthful of food. “or what?” Your eyebrow raised, jungkook snickering at Jimin’s quick surrender. Yoongi wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing you up against the counter as you grabbed food and piled it onto your plate. His hand following after yours as he held it, you could feel someone staring. You looked up only to find half the boys staring at you in disgust with the rest smirking. “What?” You furrowed your brows, Yoongi sitting on the chair as you popped a small piece of food into your mouth. “I forgot how disgustingly lonely you two made me feel.” Hoseok raised an eyebrow as he sipped his orange juice. “I missed this,” jungkook happily smiled as he raised his camera to snap a photo. “it’s how it’s supposed to be,” he added. “So how happy are you all that I’m leaving?” Your voice came out as a sigh. Yoongi nudging you playfully as the boys frowned. Jungkook perked up, his eyebrows furrowing. “I’m not.” He kept his mouth firm, taehyung patting his shoulder. “I am, my back hurts from sleeping on the couch.” Seokjin sipped his drink, eyes staying on you. “you can have it back, I’ve been staying with Yoongi?” You said confused. It’s been a while since you stayed in seokjins room. “I know,” he snickered. “it’s called a joke.” He nodded teasingly. “that is a joke?” You snorted and he frowned. “always so mean to me.” He walked out of the kitchen pouting. Yoongi wrapped his arm around your waist and rubbed small circles around your back. A loud knocking on the door made you all jump. “Jesus Christ.” Your coffee spilled all over you. Yoongi helping you clean it up, hoseok entering the room again. “Ah, Yoongi?” He called out, our attention turning to the doorway to see Jess standing there. Her eyes flying to Yoongi and then to his hand on your waist where he held you. “what are you doing here?” Yoongi stared at her, her eyes falling as she fiddled with her shirt. “We need to talk,” she pleaded, Yoongi uncomfortable with her there. “About what?” His voice was flat, Jess looked at you, her eyes narrowing as she realized how close you were standing to each other. “is this why you broke up with me out of the blue?” her voice clearly full of jealousy. “we were technically still together,” Yoongi frowned and she looked at him with wide eyes. He had never told her. “what?” Jess looking to you for an answer, but this conversation wasn’t for you. “We were together, but I moved to japan.” You explained when Yoongi didn’t speak. “I hadn’t been able to speak to him for a year, so when I came back and he had a girlfriend.” You shrugged, “I really didn’t have a point to say anything,” Jess only shook her head. “That still doesn’t answer my question,” she stared at Yoongi. “He doesn’t owe you an explanation. You were cheating, he still loves me, there’s nothing deeper to get into.” You snapped and she closed her mouth as if she was at a loss for words. “I broke it off the first time you caught me.” She lied, Namjoon putting his cup down aggressively, catching everyone’s attention. “No,” he stared directly at her. “You didn’t because I caught you weeks later. If you’re going to cause problems, please get out of my house. You clearly are not welcomed here anymore.” Namjoon never got angry, he was quiet unless joking around with his friends. She only stared at everyone, giving a quick defeated nod before she left the house. Yoongi sat there staring at the floor for a moment. “Namjoon, will you go with me to the store?” Yoongi broke his silence, his eyes staring his friend down. Namjoon only gave a small nod before taking a sip of his coke. “Hey, ill be back. I don’t know what time I’ll come home.” Yoongi pulled you into himself, his arms around your waist as he stared at you softly. “Okay,” your eyebrows furrowing softly.

“What’s this about?” Taehyung sat with you and the remaining men in the living room. Jungkook and Jimin on the floor while hoseok sat on the other side of you. Seokjin In the kitchen cooking dinner for everyone, refusing any help. “Something about a kid with superpowers, I don’t know I see it everywhere.” You shrugged, hoseok laughing at you slightly. As soon as you hit play seokjin came out of the kitchen, his face scrunched. “Don’t watch this without me.” The spoon in his hand, he stopped cooking to come yell. “Okay, let us help you cook then.” You bargained, seokjin glaring at you with hesitation before agreeing. “Not the kids, just you.” He pointed his spoon at the youngest, his eyes narrowing at him. “they can’t cook anyway,” you joked as you climbed off the couch, his face softening slightly. While cooking you and seokjin got to talking. Trying to get him to open up more than usual. “Hey, how are you?” You cut up the carrots, seokjin keeping an eye on the steak. “I’m good, you?” He perked up but you shook your head. “No, I mean really.” You paused, he looked startled at first but nodded. “I feel lonely?” He whispered. “but everytime I try, it fails.” He shrugged. “Finally realized its me and I should just stop.” He gave a fake laugh. “What do you mean ‘it’s you?’” Your voice agressive. “Seokjin if people aren’t appreciating you, it is not your fault.” Your eyes never leaving his. “You are literally perfect, probably too perfect for anyone out there, but if you think you’re the problem relationships don’t work. You’re wrong.” He seemed to think about what you were saying. “the flower shop girl, she liked you. What happened?” You asked and he frowned. You had hit a nerve. “she was seeing someone.” You sighed but made it a point. “We’ll see, she liked you seokjin, but she was already in a relationship.” You pointed the knife at him. “it would’ve been shitty of her to break up with him out of the blue.” You smiled. “Think of it this way, if she was your soulmate, she’ll return somehow.” He smiled brightly, as if he believed you. “Kinda like you and Yoongi, huh.” You could feel your face flush. “kinda.” You nodded. Your voice somewhat shy. “I know you know this, but you and Yoongi were made for each other.” He stared at you fondly. “It’s why it never worked with hoseok,” he paused. “You have to believe that.” You could only nod. “I do now.” You closed your mouth to think for a moment. “The way I feel with Yoongi is unmatchable. I never had to change for him, I can be me.” You thought, seokjin smiling slightly. “When I think of my future, growing old, having kids.” You sighed softly. Sitting at the counter. “I think of him, and I know he feels that way too.” You smiled big, seokjin following. “I can feel his love?” You made it out as a question and seokjin nodded. “Because it’s real, and you guys will not always be perfect. You’ve fought, you’ve broken up.” Seokjin explained. “But you are strong enough to work through it and find your way back to one another.” Seokjin rolled his eyes. “I kinda look up to you.” He teased. “Relationship wise.” You smirked at him. “relationship goals huh?”

yoongi arrived just in time for dinner, he looked nervous and fidgety, but you ignored it as you served him food. Yoongi smiled his hand tapping your ass as you walked away. When dinner was over, you sat with Yoongi in his room, getting ready for bed. He lied on the bed, watching you undress. You could see him through the mirror, watching you with lustful eyes. “Where did you go today?” You removed your braid, and he stared slightly. “Shopping,” his curt answer made you eye him. You changed out of your regular clothes and into a robe, you sauntered over to him and he readied himself for you to walk to him. You climbed on top of his, his hands trailing your body as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You and Yoongi hasn’t slept together since getting back together. You were both trying to ease back into your relationship. Yoongi’s hands flew to the knot keeping your robe closed, pulling your robe down exposing your lingerie underneath. You could hear his breath hitch as he looked at you. His fingertip trailing your stomach, up your breast, until his fingertips clasps around the locket between your chest. “You still wear it?” He smiled but before you spoke he pulled you down and kissed you. Yoongi unhooking your bra within seconds, the smallest giggle falling from your mouth. “Been practicing?” You joked but he only teased your breast with his mouth. Gripping your chest aggressively as you let out a small moan. Yoongi growing harder and harder beneath you. “Are you going to continue to tease me,” you pulled away out of breath. “or are you going to fuck me already.” Yoongi’s smirked grew and he pulled his shorts down while still paying attention to your body. “can I take this off?” You pulled on his shirt and he smiled while continuing to take his shorts off. your bodies pressed together, you could feel your wetness as his dick pressed up into your panties. “You know I love you so much, right?” His hand caressing your cheek, you could feel your face hot, as you nodded. “I don’t think I loved anyone as much as I love you.” You wear nearly teary eyed. Yoongi moves your panties to the side, the tip of his cock rubbing up and down teasingly before he pushed himself inside you. Your nails digging into his back and up his neck as you pulled his hair in pleasure.

When you finished, you both showered. The rest of the night being spent tracing your finger along him as you talked about your future, but Yoongi was hiding something. You could feel it. You just didn’t know if it was good or bad.

____

IM SORRY ITS LATE AND NOT WORTH IT. ONLY 4 LEFT also sorry for typos

[brooklynblogsaskat]

A Study of Isolation - From Self-Induced to Solitary Confinement

Hello. As a warning, this post may be long and discuss darker themes. If you are not in a mentally sound place, I discourage you from reading this post. Please check out a different post of mine if you are not in a mentally stable condition. WARNING: topics discussed in this post include depression, isolation, and anxiety among other things. Thank you.

Earlier this evening, I went to dinner by myself. At first, I was the only patron in the restaurant, but after a few minutes, a set of three elderly women walked in and were seated on the other side of the restaurant. I visit this restaurant rather often, as I love their food and their staff is always welcoming. One by one, other couples began to come into the restaurant for the dinner rush. They were seated all around me - husbands with their wives, women with their friends, a party on the other side of the room... and I looked up at my chip bowl and realized that I was the only person who’d come to eat alone. It was a very depressing realization. I asked for a box and left so I wouldn’t make the couples around me uncomfortable by sitting there and staring at my table in complete silence.

As I was driving home, I began thinking to myself. Why am I alone all of the time? That probably sounds dramatic, doesn’t it? Well, it is true, after all. In school, I typically sit by myself. I keep my head down, and this blog is where I really let my colors fly free. At home, I spend all of my time on my computer and on my phone, communicating with people I can’t see or connect with in real life. Even in my dreams, I spend a lot of time watching the lives of those around me from a third-person perspective, unable to interact with them and unable to be seen. I ask myself again, why am I so alone all of the time?

Is it simply that I don’t belong around other people? Do others not care to be around me? Do I drive them away? Is it on accident or on purpose? If I drive them away by accident, what am I doing wrong to chase them away? If it’s on purpose, why do I do it? Is it for protection? If so, what am I trying to protect myself from? Is it for punishment? And if so, then what am I punishing myself for? I know I’m living with depression. I know being alone makes it so much harder to find a reason to live. And gods do I know that people are unreliable. If one thing has changed constantly in my life, it’s the array of people surrounding me. People I thought I would be friends with forever have turned their backs on me in an instant just for existing in a way they didn’t want me to - were our friendships ever real in the first place?

Alright, I’ve ranted for long enough about my personal life. It’s time to get into the real meat of this post.

What are the effects of isolation on people?

To answer this question outside of my own experiences, I turned to the internet to learn other people’s experiences. The first website I came across was Science Alert (reposted from The Conversation), and the article was from February 3rd of this year (2019). It discussed a challenge posed for $100,000 if one can last 30 days alone in a dark room with no contact with the outside world and nothing but food, water, a bed, and a restroom. This challenge was taken up by one Rich Alati, who lasted 20 days in isolation before negotiating his release for $62,400 rather than the full 100K. He said that during his time he experienced a variety of things such as mood swings, depression, a disrupted sleep cycle, and even hallucinations. This is a rather extreme case, as most people who experience social isolation are not literally isolated from the outside world without the internet or daylight. (This is with the exception of prisoners - but more on this later.) However, this is not to say that social isolation doesn’t have just as severe consequences. People who experience social isolation are more prone to illness, such as cancer or heart disease and are at a higher risk of having a stroke. But the effects of isolation go so much deeper than even that.

What are the effects on children?

My next source of information came from an article posted on No Isolation which discusses, as I’m sure you can guess, the effects of social isolation in children. The website says that children need to be social with other children in order to learn social norms, acceptable behavior. But aside from this, if children cannot learn how to interact with other children from a young age, they will struggle with decisions later in life, and statistically turn out to be a part of a poorer class. In addition, experiencing social isolation in youth tends to lead to feelings of isolation later in life, as well as an increased risk of social anxiety, depression, and insomnia.

What about in teenagers?

My source for this section comes from Newport Academy. They say that the effects of teenage isolation include an increased stress response, less restful sleep, a greater risk of suicide, greater chance of alcohol and drug use, greater likelihood of depression and anxiety, lowered self-care habits such as bathing and brushing teeth, and a decrease in positive outlook on life. Personally, I can deeply agree with all of this information. It is so hard to care about taking care of yourself when nobody else seems to care about you.

Remember when I talked about prisoners?

When people are placed in jail, it is a punishment for committing crimes. While prisons are supposed to “rehabilitate” their prisoners, their isolation tactics often result in hallucinations, anxiety, panic attacks, issues with concentration, poor decision making, paranoia, and impulse control. Often, the tactics used in prison do nothing to rehabilitate - they make the problems already present in the prisoner’s life much, much worse, and people in prison for petty crimes often end up back in prison again and again, sometimes for similar crimes, and sometimes for much worse ones. The source for this piece was an article on Psychology Today.

So what have we learned?

Well, in this post we learned that many people experience isolation in many different ways. We learned that isolation causes many issues, both physically and psychologically. Isolation increases the risk of depression, anxiety, and hallucinations. But through all of this research, I haven’t really figured out why I end up alone so often. Have I chosen to isolate myself? Considering that humans are naturally social creatures, this doesn’t seem the likely option. But then that leaves the other option - am I doing something to drive other people away from me? I think this is one mystery that will elude me for my lifetime. However, I think if something can be taken from all of this... it’s that a lot of the time, we aren’t nearly as alone as we think, and if we ARE alone, then maybe what we really need is to learn to reach out. Put down your phone. Finish this post and then... go outside. Talk to someone new. If you have no friends in the environment you exist in, go somewhere new. And if all else fails... learn to be happy being alone. Take up writing, or drawing. Learn to knit or sew. Find a book to read, or take up wood carving. Find something to express yourself, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll find someone through that. Take joy in the people you have. Never take them for granted, and don’t take yourself for granted either. I promise you’re worth so much more than you may realize.

Thank you for taking the time to read my post. This one is probably a bit more lengthy than my usual post? Anyway. Have a good morning, afternoon, evening, or night, wherever you are, whenever you read this.

_______________________________

Sources

https://www.sciencealert.com/isolation-has-profound-effects-on-the-human-body-and-brain-here-s-what-happens

https://www.noisolation.com/global/research/how-does-social-isolation-affect-a-childs-mental-health-and-development/

https://www.newportacademy.com/resources/empowering-teens/teenage-isolation/

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/modern-minds/201806/what-really-happens-inside-prisoner-isolation-cells

[generaldevi]

Prognosis

Chapter 6: Stomach Issues

Rating: Mature Pairing: Law x Luffy

Characters: Roronoa Zoro, Nami, Monkey D. Luffy, Trafalgar D. Water Law, Usopp, Donquixote Doflamingo (mentioned), Donquixote Rocinante (mentioned, Dr. Kureha (mentioned), Sanji (mentioned)

Warnings: References to Depression, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional Dependency

My part for the @lawlu-events BigBang 2018/19

The story got illustrated by the awesome artist @novicecomics

The way Law thinks about alcohol + work or alcoholism in general does not reflect my opinion. Do not drink and drive/work. Do nothing, that could endanger you or others. Be responsible with any kind of legal drug that you consume!

Chapter 6: Stomach-Issues

Law was restless. He was not sure why he felt like this. The night had been rather relaxing. He had managed five hours of sleep, which was quite a lot for a person like him.

The morning had been eventless. He had managed to eat his breakfast in a relaxed manner. No annoying people had bothered him. The Strawhat had been nowhere in sight. Some folks might call it paranoia, Law called ‘staying safe.’ After breakfast Law went to the doctor’s office, swapped shifts with Dr. Kureha. She sounded a bit buzzed. The room was left in a mess. Good thing, that the cleaning staff took care of it in a swift manner. Law was already waiting for the inevitable to happen. He sat at the desk, waiting for the Strawhat to barge in. One of his friends in whatever condition. But he did not come. There were a few elder people in need of some light medication against nausea, some girls wanting lotion for the blisters on their feet or lotion for their sunburns. One teen had come with a twisted ankle and another person with a migraine was currently resting in one of the prepared rooms. So far, nothing unusual. So far, no Strawhat.

In the last hour no one had come to visit him. It could be, that it was because one of the doctors sharing his shift was way more friendly (especially towards children). But well, nothing Law was concerned about. He disliked children. Their usual friendliness, the innoence, their open manner made him uneasy. Damn, mandatory three-month traineeship on the pediatric ward had been hell. Law wanted a different traineeship. He had three to pick from and Doflamingo had picked for him. He was supposed to be good with children. He was supposed to take care of the future family descendants. Law sighed. Not the things he wanted to think about at the moment. He had to admit, that sitting around at the moment and doing nothing, was not doing him any good. It never did. His mind wandered off to the Strawhat more times than Law liked to admit. Did he finally realize, that the attempts at befriending him had been futile? Probably. It was just a typical thing. It had happened before many times. People always tried to befriend him. Somehow, they constantly thought, he had a cool or special vibe to him or maybe it was due to the fancy clothes from the Donquixote-brand. Law did not care about their reasons. After being declined two, three or more times, they realized that Law had no interest in them. Usually, the attempts at trying to befriend him stopped by then. Law always thought of these people as pathetic beings, like Doflamingo has advised Law. The Donquixote had taught him many things that stuck with Law till today. If these people were sincerely interested in him, they were supposed to try harder! That is what he had said. Cora-san always said, that friends would stick with him, even in critical times. These pathetic attempts at befriending him made Law feel, as if they were not genuinely interested in Law but only in what he represented. A perfect little Donquixote spawn, made and raised to be a loyal pawn. However, something had seemed unusual about the Strawhat. Law could not pinpoint what it was. The cheerful grin, the shishishi or just his presence in general. It had some fairly familiar vibe. With a sigh he took one of the medical books standing next to him. They were outdated, probably just there to look cool and professional. But well, better read something, then being bored.

With every passing minute, with every voice outside the door, that was not the Strawhat his mood dropped a bit further.

When his shift was finally over, he was angry and frustrated. Of course, he had to be right. Of course, no one would be like Cora-san ever again. Trying hard to be friends with him, to get close to him.

Sometimes Law was not quite sure if it was his own fault, that he ended up without friends, or if he could blame being raised by a megalomaniac sociopath. It was always easier to blame others than to admit, that only he could alter his attitude. The exchange of the room was easily made. The cleaning staff did not have much to do. The migraine-patient was still resting. After filing in his report, he left the room. With a grumpy expression on his face, he walked towards the deck.

No. Law was in no mood of idle socialising. He did not want to see any more people than necessary. With a sigh he turned around and walked towards his cabin. The more time he spent with Dr. Kureha, the more Law thought that maybe alcohol was the solution he needed, chemical pun intended.

Grim thoughts spread through his mind as the keycard was pushed through the card system. The door opened and with another sigh Law fell into his bed. Maybe he should have spent the mandatory time-off with the family. Better than feeling yet another disappointment.

Law was not sure how long he had spent brooding in bed. Long enough, considering his alarm clock showed nine in the evening. His shift had ended four hours ago. Wait- what was this noise? Someone was hammering against his door. “Torao!!! I know you are in there! Torao!” Laws eye twitched. No. He had spent too much time thinking about the Strawhat. This was just another auditory hallucination. “Torao?! Are you sleeping?”

With a sigh and the familiar throbbing, that would soon start to be a migraine, he opened the door. “No. But if I was, now I would be awake anyway!” He growled, looking at the over enthusiastic boy in front of him. Why was the damn boy constantly smiling!? Who could be in such a upbeat mood all the fucking time?! “Good that I did not wake you up then! You often look tired!” “Why are you here…?” Law was in no mood for idle talk.

 “I uhm-“ Luffy frowned. He wanted to ask him for the barbeque again. Nami did say, that Torao was just gonna decline again, if he did it the same way as the days before. Stubborn! Who could decline good food this often?! Nami did suggest, that he could fake some kind of disease to spent time with Torao but Usopp said, that Toroa was probably to smart for that. True, then again. He could just try! “I uh- have a stomach ache!” It was the first thing that entered his mind. His eyes were still gleaming, and the corners of his mouth were twitching. It was hard to fake sickness! Luffy was in a good mood, and he wanted to show it! “You have a stomach ache?” Laws voice was monotone. Even though he was a relatively young doctor, he had his fair share of people trying to fake illness. Some because of medicine-addiction, some to get free from work, others due to psychological reasons. All these people had one thing in common, though. They did it way better and realistic than the Strawhat in front of him! The way he starred at him; eyes locked deeply into his. His mouth was twitching to much; his whole posture was tensed up. One did not have to be a genious to recognize these signs. “Are you sure? “N- Yes!” Luffy knew, that liars often looked away. They said that in one of the criminal shows. So, he had to look in Torao’s eyes to make him believe! He stared. Intensely. “Okay. Did you consume something odd?” “No! I did not eat at all! I waited with the dinner until you come. You did not come out on the deck! So, I went to search you! Hn-“ Luffy’s stomach rumbled loudly. He was starved! He had not eaten since noon! That was nearly six hours ago! “You searched me, because I did not come to the deck?” “Yes!” “I thought you came to me because of your stomach issues.” Law suppressed a sly grin. Too easy.

“I-“ Luffys eyes widened a bit, before he started to laugh.“I am not good at lying! Usopp is extremely good at that!” Law was fascinated. How easy the boy could admit, that he was bad at something this substantial. Lying. Who managed to live without lying?! “But yes. I wanted to find you! After talking to the old had, she described me, where your cabin is! Come now! Let us go eat! After ten we cannot eat the deck anymore!” “No, Str-Luffy. I do not want to eat with you. I dislike barbeque, and I do not want to be with either you or your friends on the deck.” For a moment there was a frown on Luffy’s face, before he grinned again.

“Okay!” He turned around, taking a few steps away from the other’s door. Law stood there, frozen. He left. As easy as that? He pushed away the feelings of regret and isolation. Numbness spread through his veins, making it easier to accept. As always. Slowly, Luffy turned his head around, grinning at Law. “If you do not wanna be with us on the deck, then I bring my friends to you! We eat at your cabin!” Law was too shocked to react for a moment. In his cabin- “Wait, no!” This boy. He had not let him down.

„Okay, fine!“Law exhaled, while gently massaging his throbbing temples. This boy gave him a terrible headache. He wished for nothing more than some painkillers, coffee and a cigarette amd maybe a good lay to get rid of these thoughts. “If I go and eat with you once, will you stop bothering me?!” “Yes!” Luffy grinned. He knew, he could convince the other one! “You and your friends will not come to my office room again. If one of you is dying, you will go to one of the other doctors!” “Sure!” Luffy laughed, amused by Laws reaction. He had known, that Law was more than the calm and unapproachable person!

“Come! I am starving!” He reached for the others hand, simply pulling the other one towards him. “Let us go to the others! Nami likes you! Usopp is scared of you! But he is frightened of many things! He will get used to you! Just talk to him about robots or comics! Or insects!”

“Of course you are hungry, so much to stomach problems!” He knew, the other one had been faking! It had been so obvious. He had never witnessed such a pathetic case of faking… in all his years as student or now doctor. Merely observing him lie, had made Law feel awful. Stomach Issues... He had watched Luffy eat. The amount of food the other one had stuffed into himself in the short time Law, had observed him, had been… surprising. Law was curious. Was it a special medical condition? Luffy was not obese; in fact the boy was far from it. He was more of a scrawny person with a hint of muscles. Not enough muscles to justify the intake of the immense amount of calories. Maybe these thoughts would distract him from the annoying company of the Strawhat and his odd friends.

[ronyxfic]

Educating the Victim - Act VI, Chapter XXII

Pairing: -

Rating: Mature

Warnings/Tags: alcohol, discussion of mental illness.

CHAPTER 22: Impulse

 It was getting late. Pearl caught the clock in the corner of her eye just as her belly let out a loud rumble.

She entertained the idea of skipping dinner for far longer than she should have. The idea of potentially running into Greg was daunting.

But she’d barely eaten all day, and she needed to be better than that. So with a sigh, she resolved, at around 10pm, to go down to the kitchen. Surely it was late enough that she wouldn’t encounter anyone.

 Greg was in the living room, assembling what appeared to be a box of records. He glanced up as he saw her descend the stairs, and offered a smile. "Oh, hey, Pearl! You still up?"

 Pearl resisted the urge to grimace. “Hi, Greg,” she said. “Uh, just getting some food. I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”

 "You can stay in my hair. I've had to accept things getting tangled up in it." He looked a little taken aback, frowning despite a kind tone. "I was figuring that maybe we could get to know one another since you're gonna be here for a while."

 “Uh...”

Pearl hesitated and turned to face him instead of darting into the kitchen, out of sight. “I mean, sure, I guess. It’s late now, though, so not today. I should probably head to bed anyway.” The temptation to turn tail and go back to her room was hard to resist. “I’m just gonna make some food first.”

 "Oh, alright!" Greg didn't seem to catch the discomfort in her voice. "You free tomorrow evening? I could dig out some board games from storage. Hey, we could do halfsies on a pizza!"

 “Oh. Uh. I think I’m over at my friend’s place tomorrow.” No plans had been made, but Amethyst was probably down, and Pearl didn’t want to make concrete plans with Greg.

 "Oh, okay! My week after that is a lil sketchy. I got some gigs that haven't been given a time yet. How's about you text me when you're free?"

 “Oh! Yeah, that would work. I have exams now, though, so I don’t know when I’m free.” The answer was probably never. “Anyway, gonna make food now. You, uh, want anything?”

 "Oh! Sure, fetch me a root beer." He gave her a big smile. "Can't wait! I'll try to dig up something interesting for it. What games do you like?"

 Pearl stuck her head out of the kitchen. “Anything, really,” she said, “I guess stuff you can play with two people.”

Bless him, he was really trying.

Pearl was not in the mood to socialise with Rose’s partner, though.

 "I can accommodate that. What are ya making?"

 “Oh. Just some toast.”

 "Okay! Lemme know how we're doing for bread. Rose said she'd send some money for shopping next week." He resumed flipping through the records, and rearranging their order in the stack.

 “Okay,” Pearl said, feeling like this particular interaction was over. Well, that was something, at least.

 --

 There was a curt knock on Rose's door. Marigold's voice seemed rather quiet "Rose? I was wondering if you wanted to go and eat. I'm not sure when the restaurant closes, but I think it's best to go sooner rather than later."

 Rose, who just got done freshening up, opened the door. “Oh, hey! I was just about to go out and look for food. Have you found your appetite?”

 "Yes. It might help with the mood and... it would be foolish to go looking for Roxy without sustenance."

 Rose checked her phone. “It’s eight now,” she said. “Where should we go?”

 "Hmm." Marigold looked to the door. "Downstairs?"

 “Might as well,” Rose said. She grabbed her purse. “You ready now?”

 "Yeah." Marigold walked to the door. "You have a key?"

 “Yup. Let’s go.”

A few moments later, they found themselves by the restaurant, where a very sheepish waitress told them in heavily accented English that they stopped serving food at eight.

 "Okay. Change of plans." Marigold clapped her hands together. "Why don't we go to some place outside? I'm sure it could be lovely."

 “... yeah, okay,” Rose said. “Do you know if there’s any places nearby?”

 Marigold awkwardly rubbed her arm. "I don't know if I even want to leave. I'm nervous about bumping into her."

 “We’re just going out for food. What are the odds of us running into a wanted criminal at a quiet restaurant while we’re just having dinner? It’ll be fine.”

 Marigold was silent for a moment before nodding. "I suppose you're right. Want me to Google what's nearby?"

 “Yeah, sure,” Rose said. “Or maybe the staff here have recommendations?”

 "You could ask," Marigold said, tapping on her phone.

 “I’d feel awkward, after earlier,” Rose said. She then spied some leaflets in a familiar language. “Oh, hey! This has a map of the town, with restaurants and recommendations!”

Her eyes flickered over the symbol indicating a casino. Only one in the entire town.

 "Anything good? My internet is being a bit spotty."

 Rose skimmed the reviews. “This one sounds nice!”

On the map, it was dangerously close to the casino. “Though, maybe not. Uh. There’s another one that looks like it’s really close to the hotel. Here?” She showed Marigold the map, pointing to the restaurant she’d scouted out.

 Marigold tilted her head. "Hm. I like the look of the other one. Maybe a walk might help my nerves."

 Rose bit her lip. Nothing’s going to happen. You’re going to the restaurant, not the casino.

“Alright then,” she said.

 "I take it that I won't have to spend the night babysitting your drunk behind." Marigold nudged her playfully as she walked out of the door.

 “Oh, absolutely not. I’m not having any alcohol. ...maybe some wine with dinner, but that’s all, really.”

 Marigold cocked a brow. "Alright. If you say so."

   The restaurant was about fifteen minutes away. It was loosely populated, and they managed to get a table near the window.

“Now here comes the real challenge,” Rose said as the menus were being brought. “These aren’t in English.”

 "Oh, no!" Marigold laughed. "I do suppose we'll have to hope we see something familiar."

 Rose had a look at the menu. “Well, I know what ‘pizza margherita’ means,” she said, “maybe it’s not that bad after all. Oh, they have lots of wine.”

 "Pollo is chicken, yes?" Marigold glanced at her own. "I wouldn't mind some pasta."

 They ordered their food, and Rose couldn’t resist ordering one of the red wines. It was just one glass.

“So, do you think we should go out to look for her tomorrow?” she asked after the waiter was gone.

 "Yes. Absolutely." Marigold swallowed, her face displayed signs of distress at the thought. "We only have a few days. Any hour we don't use is an hour closer for interpol."

 “Very true,” Rose said. Their drinks came, and Rose had a sip of the red wine. “Oh, that is delicious. ...I’d offer you some, but you’re teetotal, aren’t you?”

 Marigold sipped at a flute of fizzy water. "I'm alright, thanks. It's nearly been six months since I stopped."

 “Impressive. I should probably stop as well. But wine is so good.” Rose had another sip.

 "That it is." Marigold put her glass down. "A couple of glasses tended to get me just the right kind of adventurously tipsy. It's the spirits that cause trouble."

 “Well, they’re good if all you want is to forget everything,” Rose said. “Like last night. I knew it was a bad idea, and I did it anyway.”

 "Tell me about it. Funnily enough, all I ever drank with Roxy was shot upon shot and barely remembered anything in the mornings."

 Rose grimaced. “I know we had this discussion earlier, but she must’ve done it on purpose. She did it with me.”

 Marigold glanced away, touching her neck in an awkward way. "Yes, it's been on my mind a lot."

 “Are you worried that something... bad might’ve happened that you don’t remember?”

 "Yeah. I suppose I am." Her voice was dry.

 “Hmm.” Rose frowned, had more wine. “Really, we can’t go from here without Roxy. She’s the one who’s got the answers, and without her, you’ll never know what happened.”

 "Oh yes, that'll really help us to get her to give herself up peacefully." Marigold rolled her eyes. "'Oh, hello, Roxy! Long time, no see! Could you come with us? Also, did you do things to me without consent while I was blackout drunk that night ten or so years ago? You know?' That'll go really well."

 “Well, finding her would be a place to start,” Rose said. “Everything else will have to wait. And... honestly, I have no idea how to talk to her. I mean, there’s kind of an entire unfinished court case between us.”

 "I guess that's why I'm here!" There was fake jubilation in Marigold’s voice. "To talk to her..."

 “Well, what would you say?” Rose said. “Say, you run into her tomorrow morning while out to get lunch or something. What do you say?”

 Marigold laughed. "What would I even? Hm... 'Hello, Roxy. There's an interpol search on you. Come with me if you want to live.'"

 “Huh, sounds a bit like blackmail to me. You sure that’ll go down well?”

 "It's the truth, isn't it?"

 “I suppose.” Rose sighed.

The waiter brought over their food, and Rose hesitated, looking at her pizza.

 "What's wrong? It looks good." Marigold grabbed a fork and poked at a large plate of spaghetti.

 “It does. I’m just not that hungry.” It wasn’t technically a lie. Rose sighed, then decided to elaborate. “I... she always made me feel guilty about eating. And it’s been five years and I’ve gotten so much better, but all of this shit has just brought everything back up. In some ways, I still feel like she’s watching me, criticising every bite I eat.” She swallowed. “It’s pizza. High calorie. I... I should just eat it. I can’t believe I’m still letting her control me like this.”

 Marigold frowned, and then gently put her hand on Rose's. "It's all alright. You should still eat. If anything, you need the calories after vomiting up everything yesterday and barely eating today. Besides, if you really want to spite her for making you feel this way, surely eating should be the best way forward."

   Rose sighed once again. “Intellectually, I agree with you. It’s just... hard.” She reluctantly took a bite.

“Actually, never mind, this tastes fantastic,” she said after a few minutes. “God. Italy, right? I’m never touching Domino’s again.”

 Marigold chuckled tenderly as she withdrew. "I do understand the difficulty, though. The media and all that doesn't help us ladies with our self image, either. I've seen a lot of girls go through eating problems in my school."

 Rose nodded. “Yeah, absolutely. Pearl being one of them, of course. I’m sure you know about that, with her being Aurora’s sister, and all.”

 Marigold looked away. "Yes. But I only heard about the whole ordeal after she'd been taken to hospital."

 Rose grimaced. “Poor girl. You know, it was the reason I got close to her in the first place. I noticed she had problems... and having gone through it myself, I just wanted to help.”

 Marigold couldn't quite meet Rose's eyes. "Yes, I remember you saying so. I would have gotten involved sooner if I hadn't been such a drunk scumbag."

 “Well. You’re better now. And so is Pearl. That’s what matters.”

 "True. She does look a lot better these days." Marigold gave a nod. "Goodness. I was so cross with her when she returned to retract her statement about you."

 “Yeah, I remember her saying you weren’t happy. But I’m still glad she did it.” Rose finished her glass of wine. The waiter appeared by her side, and Rose let him refill her glass.

 Marigold watched her. "I thought you weren't going to get as drunk. Not trying to control you or anything, we just can't afford to waste more time hungover."

 “Two glasses won’t get me that drunk,” Rose assured her. “And I’m stopping after this one.”

 "Alright." Marigold resumed eating her pasta. "My god, these portions are huge."

 “Do you think we can take the food away if we don’t finish it? It would be a shame to waste it.” Rose, who had eaten about half of her pizza, picked at the rest, looking worried.

 "That depends if you want to ask. I have... a thing with embarrassing myself in front of foreign waiters."

 Rose sighed. “Maybe not, then. I don’t speak Italian.”

She hesitated, then picked up another slice.

“Do you think we’re wasting time here?” she said spontaneously.

 "I suppose. But we do need to eat and rest."

 “I spent half the day asleep. If I hadn’t been hungover, we could probably be on the hunt for Roxy right now.” Rose grimaced. “Maybe we should go after her tonight.”

 "Um. I mean... We don't exactly have our equipment and I'm not exactly... emotionally prepared for this." Marigold swallowed.

 “You’re never gonna be emotionally prepared. I just... look, we’ve got Interpol on our asses, right? And Azure wants us to get this done as soon as possible. We really don’t have any time to lose, don’t you think?”

 Marigold glanced around the room anxiously, her eyes widening. “Are... are we really going to do this now? Oh God. Okay. Where do we even start? That casino?”

 “It’s only two streets away. I noticed it on the map before. Here.” Rose pulled out the map and showed Marigold. “This is where we are. And the casino is here.”

 “Oh, goodness. And so it is.” Marigold wiped at her brow and let out a nervous laugh. “Alright. Sure. If you’re so motivated, then we could certainly give it a shot. Should we go back home and fetch our equipment? Oh... I don’t even know how my tazer works...”

 “Well, we probably won’t even run into her. But we can just scout out the casino. It’s good to familiarise ourselves with the battlefield before the battle starts.” Rose had a spark of fire in her eyes. “I – I don’t know, it’s probably a bad idea. But I just can’t wait any longer. We’ve been here for more than a day already. I just want to get something done, you know?”

 Marigold put her cutlery down. “Okay. When you put it that way, I guess it won’t be so bad. I’ve not been inside of casino for a long time, I guess I’m somewhat nervous.”

 “You got a history with casinos?”

 “I had a...” Marigold coughed awkwardly. “Gambling problem.”

 "Oh. I see." Rose shot her a look. "Will I need to keep an eye on you or something? Are you gonna be okay?"

 "Oh, no. I doubt I'll start spending any money in there if we're just taking a peek." Marigold tried to wave the anxiety off, but her face remained tense. "I might just get a little bit overwhelmed with the noise."

 "Well, we're just having a look around. I doubt we'll be staying long." Rose gave her a smile that was meant to be encouraging; she wasn't quite sure how it turned out. "Alright. Do we need a plan for this, or are we just going in?"

 "We're just looking around, Rose." Marigold sighed, curling her fists. " We need to stop overthinking this."

 "Okay then. Are you done with your food?"

 It no longer looked as appetizing. Marigold frowned. "Yeah. It was delicious."

 "Okay. Let's pay and go, then. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get out."

 Marigold opened her purse and pulled out her wallet. "Alright, then. Goodness. I can't shake off this odd dread." She pointed to her stomach. "Right here. A big knot."

 "Yeah," Rose said, "me too. I mean... this is real. We might see her. We probably won't but... we might."

 "We could make a pact to just stay in our hotel room for the next week and say we just didn't bump into her?" Marigold offered. It was impossible to tell her level of sarcasm.

 Rose raised an eyebrow.

"Are you chickening out on me?"

 "It was just a suggestion."

 "A bad one. I need justice. Azure needs justice. And the girl that got shot. We can't just bail on this." Rose stood up, a grim expression on her face. "Have you got everything?"

 "I do. Oh, here's a waiter!"

A few minutes later, the two were outside. Marigold found her hands trembling despite the sweet, warm air that hung atop them. She suddenly found it claustrophobic to be outside.

"Which way?"

 "This way, I think." Rose pointed. As they turned the corner, the bright colours of the casino became visible.

"There." Rose's voice was soft.

 "There." Marigold's voice shook, just barely. "We can't be scared now."

 "Who's scared?"

Rose took a bold step forwards. The casino got closer as they walked, and her heart fluttered.

 Marigold looked around. The casino stood out in the quaint village, with large pillars decorating the front. The doors, large, were open enough to reveal the interior, from which music emanated.

Even the colours were taking her back. She sighed, finding it hard to properly finish her exhale. "Not me."

 "Let's go, then," Rose said. She took a deep breath and stepped inside the casino.

She was immediately a little overwhelmed by the sounds, the bustle. It was busier than Rose would have expected; her eyes darted around frantically, looking for a flash of pink hair.

 "Remember what we're in here for. We're just scouting. Tonight isn't for confrontation." Marigold pressed at her.

 "I know. I'm just... looking." Rose couldn't tear her gaze away from the crowds. "What if she's here?"

 "Then we avoid her and contact Azure immidiately."

 Rose breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. "She's probably not even here. Shall we have a look around?"

 "Yes." Marigold stepped forward, trying hard to avoid the set of loud, colourful slot machines. "I'll go check out the card tables."

 "Okay. I assume you know how to play all of these." Rose hovered close by, trying not to get too distracted.

 "I'm not here to play." Marigold shot her a scowl.

 "Oh, no, I wasn't suggesting..." Rose immediately backed off. "Sorry."

 Marigold didn't respond, and instead shuffled further inside the casino. She stopped to view a water feature in front of high panels of glass that seperated the section from the rest. "This is so unnecessary."

 Rose barely spared it a glance. “It’s what you do when you’ve got too much money, I guess,” she said. “So... what do we do now? Scout out the place?”

 "Sounds good." Marigold nodded. "I'll handle the... slots, I guess."

 Rose nodded. "I might head over to the bar. ... damn, it would be useful to have Azure's equipment to communicate. Have you got your phone on you?"

 "Should do. Ah, yes. But the reception is down."

 "Ah, damn." Rose looked around nervously. "There's no sign of her. Maybe we should go back."

 "Oh no, you brought us here. Now I'm determined." Marigold sniffed. "We're just looking around."

 Rose clenched her teeth. "Fine," she said. "I'll go to the bar. Meet at the exit in... twenty minutes?"

 "Sounds good." Marigold nodded, looking around. "This place gives me the willies."

 "Yeah, me too. Might get something to drink just to take the edge off." Rose sighed. "I'll see you later."

 "Just don't make it a repeat of last night." Marigold swore under her breath as she began to walk to a row of slots, observing the area past the entryway. She pressed through a small crowd past a table.

She realised she was having trouble breathing as she recognised the intricate game of bridge before her.

But no sign of Roxy. It was a table of men, somewhat well dressed, quieter than the more intoxicated gaggles of people.

The air felt too heavy. She envied the sparkling glasses in the room.

   Rose made it to the bar and settled on one of the stools with a heavy sigh.

The bartender spoke to her in Italian, a smile on his lips.

"Uh... I'm sorry, I don't speak Italian," Rose said, suddenly feeling kind of stupid.

What are we doing here?

"Oh, okay," the bartender said in accented English. "Can I get you a drink?"

Rose definitely needed one. "Rum and coke?" she asked.

"No problemo." The bartender winked at her. "I can help you with your Italian too, if you want."

Rose blushed. "Uh, thanks, but I'm not staying long," she said. Hopefully.

 The bartender clicked his tongue as he poured a cola. "Oh? Why not stay around for a while? Have you had enough of the casino noise?"

 Rose’s shoulders slumped slightly.

“I’m only passing through,” she said. “I’m... here with my...” She hesitated. What was Marigold to her, now? Her boss? Colleague?

“Friend,” she decided. “And we’re looking for someone, and we’ll probably leave once we find her.”

"Oh? Anyone I could help find?" He blinked, sliding the glass over.

 “Maybe,” Rose said. “We heard she comes here sometimes. About this tall, very pretty...” She blushed. “Middle aged. Possibly pink hair, though she might’ve changed it since I knew her.”

 He ground to a still before picking up a glass to wipe. An anxious look appeared over his face. "Hm, yes. I may have seen someone like that around. Your friend, you said?"

 "... yeah, something like that." Rose straightened up. "So you've seen her?"

 "Not tonight, but yes." He looked around and leaned close. "Look, bella. I like you. Don't get mixed in with this. It's dark business."

 Rose held his gaze, her heart fluttering. "What do you mean?" she said softly.

 "Avoid this mafia stuff, yes?" He gave a little nod, perhaps to encourage her. "I only see one or two of her close women stick around for longer than a month. Tourist types always seem to be... excited until they learn how far it all goes."

 Rose's heart sped up, and even though the bartender was cute, it wasn't because of his closeness.

Of course Roxy would get involved in the mafia. Fuck. I need to tell Marigold.

She looked around, anxiety in her belly.

"When did you last see her?"

 "Last week." He looked to the casino. "She does card games usually. That's all I can let you know, I'm afraid."

 Rose breathed. She could hear the blood rushing through her ears.

"Thanks," she said, "you've been very helpful. If I stick around for longer, maybe you can help me learn Italian."

Her flirtatious smile was forced. She knocked back her drink. "Could I have another one of those?"

 He returned the smile, a little more relaxed. "This one is on the house."

 --

 Marigold found herself frozen in front of a selection of slot machines. They were more colourful and loud than she remembered. Some even had electronic screens and flashy gimmicks.

The coins in her pocket felt surprsingly heavy all of the sudden.

"This truly is a recovered gambler's worst nightmare," she murmured. The noise in the hall was so loud she barely heard her own sound.

One game. One game wouldn't hurt. She only had about twenty euros as cash on hand.

"One game."

Before she knew it, her fingers were placing a coin into the slot at the top of a machine slightly taller than her.

 Rose had finished her drink and found herself waiting at the arranged time, itching to go. Her conversation with the bartender had left her with a deep pit of dread in her stomach, and she didn't want to stay.

After a few minutes, she made her way to the slot machines, where she saw Marigold and quickly made her way over to her.

"Marigold," she said, "we need to go."

 Marigold nearly jumped. She didn't, however, turn around. "Alright. Sure. Just a couple of minutes. Did you check the whole perimiter?"

 "No, but we need to go. I talked to the bartender, and he says she's in the mafia, Marigold." Rose took a moment to breathe. "God, you got stuck at the slots, didn't you?"

 Marigold turned to look at her, eyes wide.  The purse in her hand was nearly empty. "Oh, good Lord! Is she here tonight?"

 “No. But I don’t feel safe here. We need to go back and let Azure know. And get our stuff. I don’t want to encounter her without any of our gear.”

 Marigold huffed. "Get a grip, Rose. If she's not here, she's not here.  But fine, you make a good point. I've only got a coin left, anyway. One last game and we can head back."

 “Okay. Fine. I need to pee anyway. Serves me right for drinking, I guess. Do you know where the toilets are?”

 "Oh! I think I saw a sign just past that odd fountain, past the front."

 “Okay. I’ll see you in a bit.”

As Rose walked through the casino, she had to force herself to walk slowly. She deliberately didn’t look at the faces in the crowd.

She’s not here. She isn’t here, so stop stressing. This is bad for your heart.

She found the bathroom after a few minutes of searching, and once the stall door shut behind her, she let out a deep breath that she hadn’t realised she was holding.

It’s okay. I’ll be out of here soon. We’ll leave and regroup and tell Azure and then, when we actually see Roxy, we’ll be prepared.

And then, almost as an afterthought: I hope Marigold is okay.

 The door to the bathroom opened, and several other women came in, chatting in fast, hushed Italian.

 Rose ignored them. They were probably just here to enjoy their evening. There was no need to get suspicious. She's not here.

She took a deep breath, and then another. She'd finished her business on the toilet. It was time to go find Marigold and return to their hotel.

 A faucet was rushing. A figure in a suit before Rose was washing her hands, her hair silvery from the back. The suit was well fitted, pinstripe.

 Rose stepped towards the sinks and washed her hands, not looking at the other woman, lost in her thoughts.

 The woman turned to face her.

A little yelp of surprise echoed in the bathroom. 

And then silence.

 And Rose finally turned, acknowledging the woman next to her.

Her mind went completely blank in shock, and for a moment that felt like eternity, she only stared.

She’s here.